


Cat and Mouse

by BadWolfBeauty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Wings, Birth, Castiel in Purgatory, Dean in Purgatory, Hellhounds, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Light Torture, M/M, Mpreg, Mystery sort of, Nephilim, Not porn, Pregnant Castiel, Purgatory, Romance, Season/Series 08, Tags Contain Spoilers, Wings, angel birth, crowley is a bitch, i guess, implied light torture, men of letters bunker later on, naomi is a dick, nothing enough to make your stomach turn, on the road, plot exists, quickly established destiel, they r perf 4 each other but that is not a ship in this fic if u want crowley/naomi write it urself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfBeauty/pseuds/BadWolfBeauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purgatory has taken a toll on Cas's health, and both Sam and Dean are concerned for his safety, especially on hunts.  However, Cas's mysterious illness is not the biggest threat.  There are far more serious dangers on the horizon for the boys and especially for Cas...</p><p>Canon-divergent.  Canon up to 8x01, some season 8 spoilers.  Read at own discretion.</p><p>IT'S COMPLETE. I KNOW I ABANDONED YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO WAIT ANYMORE MY LOVES.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hunt

     Dean Winchester was going insane.

     There were no hallucinations, visions of fear, not like the last time he thought his mind was slipping.  After all, he was faced with enough real life terrors ever day, so many terrors that he was becoming desensitized to them all.  Every monster had a familiar face and every swipe of his knife was identical.

     He became aware of his growing insanity as he and Benny fruitlessly searched for Castiel, trekking though the endless expanse of dead trees and grass.  They were careful; their eyes constantly watched for movement in the forest around them, and they noticed monsters around them before every single ambush.  Dean caught a glimpse of a group of vampires and he silently signaled to Benny before switching into fighting mode, twisting around in a split second to behead the fanged creature that came up behind him.  He decimated the next two like a well-oiled machine, chopping smoothly and rhythmically even as another leapt onto his back.  Benny pulled the vampire off of him seconds later and Dean sent its head rolling to the ground at his companion’s feet.

     “Friend of yours?” he chuckled, wiping sweat off his forehead, inadvertently streaking it with blood.

     Benny merely jeered, revealing his pointy teeth as he tossed Dean a scrap of fabric which he used to mop his forehead and clean his hands.  “I’d say it’s time for a rest, wouldn’t you?”

     “Having trouble keeping up?” Dean wisecracked.

     “No, but you could sure use a rest, brother.  We’ve been going for a while now.”

     Dean looked at him accusingly.  “Is this about finding Cas again?  Because it seems like every time we’re finally getting somewhere, you want to stop.”

     “No, this is about keeping you sharp so you don’t get either of us killed.  We ain’t gonna find your angel friend if we’re dead.”

     “Well, it’s only been a few hours.  I’ve still got a lot left in me before I need a break.”

     “Dean…” The hunter turned around as Benny’s tone turned from frustrated to perplexed.

     “What?”

     “We’ve been going for two days now.”

     “What? No,” he scoffed disbelievingly.

     “It’s true.  We haven’t stopped in fifty hours or so, brother.  Don’t you remember getting chased by those Leviathans last night?”

     Dean opened his mouth to argue, but his head spun.  He was suddenly very confused.  Two days?  They’d been at it for two _hours_ at the most, surely.  Maybe Benny was wrong.  Slowly, Dean raised his arm to check the date on his watch.  He rubbed off a thick layer of mud and blinked at the digital face, blood running cold.

     “Yeah,” he agreed, trying to keep any signs of distress out of his voice.  “Sorry, dude; I’m just anxious to find him.  I don’t like the thought of him out there on his own.”

     Benny showed physical signs of relief.  “I know you want to find your friend.  We will find him.  But you need to sleep.”  He gazed upwards.  “It’s getting dark.  Now’s a good time to get a few hours.”

     Dean nodded his consent numbly, stripping off his jacket.  He rolled it into a messy ball of fabric and put it on the ground before lying down and using it as a pillow.  Benny stood watch a few feet away.

     Dean closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but the darkness was too dark and the stillness too still.  He was flying, no, _falling_ through the blackness.  He reached upwards, praying he could grasp a hand, a rope, anything, but there was no one there, nothing to hold onto.  He spiraled down and down, feeling nothing but the weight of his own body, the weight of his eyelids…

     His eyes snapped open and stared at the starless sky.

     He rolled onto his side, feeling the ground beneath him, knowing that this was real but not having any comfort from it.  He strained to see in the limited light.  Benny was still at his post.  Dean looked at his watch and softly groaned.  It had only been twenty minutes.

     He rubbed his face and dropped his head back onto the rough fabric and the crunchy leaves.  _Cas_ , he prayed silently, _can you hear me?  I think… this is becoming harder to deal with all the time, man.  I can’t do this much longer.  You know it’s been ten months today?  It’s been almost a year since I saw you.  Sometimes I wonder if you’re even alive… but we keep picking up bits of a trail.  It’s hard though, praying every night and never waking up with you here.  I mean, if you could hear me, you’d come, right?  But… it feels like you do and I don’t know why, but I’m sure that you can hear me.  Just… don’t be hurt, okay?  I hope there’s some other reason you can’t be here, not because you’re too injured to get to me._

 _Man, I can’t sleep.  Funny how it’s pitch black and quiet and that actually bothers me.  What I wouldn’t give for a flashlight or a phone or something.  I’ve got my watch, but the battery is going fast, so I can’t keep the display on all the time._ He paused, not sure what he was expecting.  A sudden appearance from Cas after months of absence?

 _‘Night, Cas,_ he thought with a sigh, _I’ll talk to you tomorrow._ With that he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

     In the endless darkness, he saw a flash of tan speckled by a deep crimson.

     He opened his eyes with a gasp.  “Crap,” he mumbled looking at his watch again.  It had been ten more minutes.

     _Well Cas, it looks like I’m not going to sleep anytime tonight, so I might as well tell you what’s going on.  I met this guy, Benny…_

     He prayed all night.

*             *             *

     From then and on, his sense of time only got worse.  The days started blending together and he had to remind himself to look at the sky to remember what time of day it was.  Quiet often, he wasn’t sure whether the passing time had been minutes or hours.  There were no distinguishing factors to his days; he and Benny fought and joked and every second was a second that he missed Castiel desperately; every day was a day that he found fury and comfort in his vampiric acquaintance but yearned for his angelic companion.  He increasingly checked his watch, feeling despair settle in his stomach each time he noticed a new scratch on the screen or the flickering of the numbers.

     He spent a lot of time praying to Castiel now; that he was sure of.  He was certain that it was one of the few things keeping him relatively sane.  If he couldn’t keep track of time, he could at least keep track of his words.

     Sometimes he thought he saw Castiel out of the corner of his eye.  They weren’t truly hallucinations; it was his hopeful mind playing tricks on him when he wasn’t paying attention closely enough.  He never saw a full face, but every now and then, he could swear he caught a glimpse of a rumpled trenchcoat passing by him, or a shock of dark hair behind a tree.  When he turned, however, there was never anyone there.

     Cas existed somewhere, he was sure of it.  Each monster he interrogated gave more and more clues, and he finally felt that there was something to be hopeful for at the very least.  There was a reason to keep going.

     But nothing could compare to the feeling when he was given a landmark where Castiel had been spotted.  _Find the_ _stream_ , he thought to himself.  It was his life, his rhythm.  It was the very essence of his being, his every breath, his purpose.  Find the stream.  _Find the stream_.

_We’re going to find you, Cas, I promise._

*             *             *

     Dean did not have words to describe the feeling he experienced as he followed the gentle trickling of water and saw a spot of tan in the distance through the trees.  He blinked a few times, just to make sure what he was seeing was real, but Benny looked at him purposely and he knew it had to be.

     He wanted to call out Castiel’s name as loudly as he possibly could, but his breath was hitched in his throat and his voice nonexistent from the overwhelming emotion flowing through him.  It wasn’t until he was a short distance away that he found himself able to gruffly call the angel’s name.

     “Cas!”

     “Dean.”  The hunter didn’t think he had ever appreciated the sound of his own name so much.

     “Cas,” he repeated, softer this time with a light chuckle.  Dean pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, spirits sinking only slightly at the angel’s lack of reciprocation.  “Man, I missed you.”  He took a step back.  “Nice peach fuzz,” he complemented, surprised at his own honesty.  He wondered if he was transferring his relief at finding his friend to these overly affectionate emotions.  He decided it was okay either way.  “Cas, I want you to meet someone.  This is Benny.”

     “ _Hola,_ ” the vampire interjected.

     Castiel was all business.  “How did you find me?” he asked.

     “The bloody way,” Dean said reluctantly.  “You feeling okay?” he questioned vaguely, not wanting to offend him with questions of his mental health.

     Castiel, however, was blunt as always.  “You mean am I still—?” he made a swirly gesture by his ear.

     “Yeah, if you wanna be on the nose about it, sure.”

     “No, I’m perfectly sane,” the angel insisted, and Dean felt a sudden relief wash over him.  “But then, ninety-four percent of psychotics think they're perfectly sane. So I guess we have to ask ourselves, 'what is sane?’”

     “That’s a good question.”

     “Why did you abandon Dean?” Benny interrupted the banter candidly.

     “Dude—” Dean protested with a sinking feeling.

     “The way I hear it, you two hit monster land, and hot wings here took off. I figure he owes you some backstory.”

     “Look, we were surrounded, okay? Some freak jumped Cas. Obviously, he kicked its ass, right?”  Dean defended.

     “No,” said Cas ashamedly.

     “What?” asked Dean, head spinning.

     “I ran away.”

     “You ran away?!”

     “I had to,” Cas insisted.

     Dean tried to ignore the hurt he was feeling, but it was too much to handle.  “That's your excuse for leaving me with those gorilla-wolves?  You bailed out and, what, went camping? I prayed to you, Cas, every night,” he confessed brokenly.

     “I know.”

     “You know and you didn’t…  What the hell is wrong with you?”

     “I am an angel in a land of abominations,” Cas replied simply.  “There have been things hunting me from the moment we arrived.”

     “Join the club!” growled Dean.

     “These are not just monsters, Dean. They're Leviathan. I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you. That's why I ran.”  Dean felt a sudden rush of guilt, affection, and pity towards the angel.  “Just leave me, please.”

     Dean was prepared to protest, but Benny stepped in with, “Sounds like a plan.  Let’s roll.”

     “Hold on, hold on,” Dean interjected.  “Cas, we're getting out of here. We're going home.”

     “Dean, I can’t.”

     “You can!  Benny, tell him!”

     “Purgatory has an escape hatch, but I got no idea if it's angel-friendly.”

     Dean felt a surge of anger run through him.  “We'll figure it out.”  To Castiel he said more softly, “Cas, buddy, I need you.  And if Leviathan want to take a shot at us, let ‘em. We ganked those bitches once before. We can do it again.”

     Castiel protested again, but Dean said, “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?”

     The angel looked at the hunter pensively for a moment, but responded, “I understand.”

     “Good,” said Dean, taking a cleansing breath.  “Come on, buddy, let’s get going,” he said, clapping Cas on the shoulder.  He gave the angel a smile.  “Man, it’s good to have you back.”

     “You too, Dean,” he responded, and Dean thought it might be the only fully honest thing Castiel had said so far.

     Things weren’t looking good for them yet, but they were looking better.


	2. A Watchful Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on having another chapter so soon, but I know the next few weeks will be busy for me, so I wanted to make sure I got at least one more out there before the pace slows down a bit. Still, I'll be doing my best to put another one out as soon as I can!

     Dean felt a pair of eyes watching him; it made his skin prickle and his hair rise.  But when he stared into the trees, there was nothing there, and he secretly wondered if this was the next sign of his insanity.

     Apparently he had speculated not quite as secretly as he had thought, as Castiel informed him, “You’re not crazy.”  When Dean shot him an offended glare at the thought of the angel poking around inside his head, Cas warned, “You’re projecting, Dean.  It’s likely due to the increased spiritual communication you have been engaging in with me.  Your thoughts are quite loud.”

    “Sorry,” he said, trying to keep his thoughts to himself.  “But if I’m not coo coo for Cocoa Puffs, why do I feel like there are eyes on my back?”

     Cas looked ashamed.  “I admit that I have been watching over you.  I am concerned for your well-being.”

     Dean knew that he should be indignant at being babied, but he could really only be grateful that his friend took the time to worry about him.  Still he hoped he had not “projected” that thought onto Cas because he would never live that down.

     If Castiel was aware of Dean’s emotions, he didn’t show it.  “Dean, when was the last time you slept?”

     “What kind of question is that?” he brushed off.

     “Dean,” said the angel sternly.

     The hunter rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  I don’t know, okay?  It’s been a long time.”  Cas’s gaze softened.

     “Benny,” he called.  “It’s quite dark.  I think we should settle ourselves here and continue at dawn.”  Dean opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it, knowing that whatever he said would get him nowhere.

     The vampire chuckled, looking from Castiel to Dean.  “Well, he’s got more sense than you on a few things, brother,” he told Dean.  “He doesn’t even need the rest and he still knows when it’s time for a break.”  He turned his attention back to Castiel, saying, “This looks like a good place to me.  Are we in agreement?”

     “Sure,” Dean conceded.

     “It will suffice.”

     “Good.  You don’t need sleep do you?” Benny asked, aside to Cas only.

     “No.  As an angel of the Lord, I do not require –”

     “Good.  Stay with him,” he instructed, cutting Castiel off midsentence.  “Make sure he gets himself some shut-eye, you hear?”

     The angel nodded, walking back to Dean as Benny took up his post.  The hunter had rolled his jacket into a pillow once more and was trying to get comfortable on the ground.

     “That does not look like an ideal position for sleep.”

     “Yes, thank you, Cas.  I’ll remember that next time I think my ass is getting sent to Purgatory.  I guess the hard ground and the cold and the friggin’ monsters don’t exactly add up to a lullaby.”

     “I suppose not.”  After a moment of thought, Castiel began to remove his coat.

     “What are you doing?”  Dean demanded.

     “Trying to help,” said Cas, wrapping the tan garment around Dean like a small blanket.

     “I can’t take this, Cas.  You need it.”

     “It is of no use to me, Dean.  I am not as easily affected by the cold as you are.  Now, I suggest you get some rest.  I assure you, you will feel much better.”

     Dean shook his head.  “It’s not gonna happen, Cas.  I just can’t do it.”

     “Dean,” the angel said softly.  “You have nothing to fear.”

     “Nothing to fear?  Cas, we are in a _world_ of hideous nightmares.”

     Castiel sat at the base of a nearby tree, just a few inches from Dean’s head.  “I’ll watch over you.”

     “You don’t need to do that,” Dean protested quickly.  “Benny’s keeping watch.  He’ll protect us.”

     “Yes, but those are not the monsters you are afraid of, are they?” he questioned pensively.  “Rest, Dean.”

     Dean found it hard to argue as his eyelids finally started to feel heavy.  He wondered how he had gone without sleep for so long.

     As he slipped off, he heard a woman whisper, “Angels are watching over you, Dean,” and he wasn’t sure whether to feel safe or distressed.

*             *             *

     The crunch of leaves beneath Dean’s feet was too loud for his liking.  In a world that was so unsettlingly silent, every tiny rustle seemed like an explosion of sound in his ears, and surely to the ears of others who would like to prey on him.  His eyes darted between the trees, straining in the dark to see movement, but the forest was still and empty, and he could not even see the glowing eyes of vicious gorilla-wolves from the brush.

     He kept walking forwards, light from an unknown source allowing him to see just enough of the ground in front of him.  Between his routine checks for potential attackers, he stared at his feet, careful for any missteps.  His heart leapt as he almost tripped over a rumpled heap on the ground.

     Frowning, he bent down to pick up the mysterious object, heart flying into his throat as he saw it more clearly.  It was a tan trench coat, ripped nearly to shreds and splattered with dark flecks of blood.

     “Cas?” the hunter called.  “Cas, where are you?” he shouted desperately.  “Cas!”  He ran forward, no longer looking for threats, but now his friend.  “Cas! Come on!  This isn’t funny,” he cried, stumbling blindly forwards.  Suddenly, the ground dropped off in front of him, and he noticed right on time, skidding to a stop before the edge.

     He teetered there for a moment, arms flailing wildly as he tried to regain his balance.   He moved to take a step back, but the leaves were slippery and he hadn’t stepped back quite far enough.  As hard as he fought against his forward motion, his foot slid forwards and he went tumbling down into a deep abyss.  “Cas!  Somebody?  Help me!”  He reached out as he spiraled down, but all he could see was blackness.  He could not even find the angel’s trench coat in the endless nothing.

     Suddenly, he felt a tight grip on his shoulder, accompanied by a bright light behind him.  He felt himself being pulled upwards by the strong grasp, out of the jaws of the strange canyon.  Curious, he turned around to see his rescuer and he was relieved to find it was Castiel, curiously accompanied by a set of shadowy wings he could not see quite clearly.  The angel smiled and pulled him closer, giving the hunter enough room to move, but ensuring his security.  Dean allowed Cas to hold him tightly against his chest; he ended up gripping his sleeve, unable to help himself as Castiel stripped away his fear like a defective Band-Aid.

     The light surrounding the angel was bright, but it was also soft and Dean found himself drifting off, peacefully fading into nothing as Castiel saved him yet again.

*             *             *

     Dean’s eyes flickered open, surprised to find that the empty sky had already transitioned from a deep charcoal to the smoky gray of day.  He blinked confusedly for a moment, taking in his surroundings.  Looking forwards and slightly to the right of him, he saw Benny, back turned and watching their surroundings intently.  To the left and behind of him was Cas, and Dean realized with a start that his hand was clutching the lower leg of Cas’s hospital pants and his head had moved so it was partially in his lap.  In addition, Cas had a hand in Dean’s hair and another on his shoulder.

     His instinct was to jolt away, embarrassed, but he decided that it would not be exactly fair to Castiel after how much he had just done for him.  “Sleep well?” the angel questioned, and Dean had the decency to respond, “Um, yeah.  Thanks, Cas for… well, you know.”

     “It was the least I could do,” he responded, pulling away from Dean.  The places where they had made contact now felt cold.

     Dean coughed uncomfortably.  “Hey, Benny, you ready to hit the road?”

     “I am.  I’d rather have a real road though than all this endless wilderness.”

     “I’m with you on that one, man,” Dean agreed.  “I can’t wait until I’m driving around in my Baby again.  Sam better be taking good care of her.”

     “I’m sure he is.”

     "From what I’ve heard, your brother is one swell guy,” said Benny, and Dean noticed a change in tone immediately.  He nudged Cas as Benny swiveled his shoulder and began to whistle tunelessly.

     He was a second too late.  Right as Cas began to turn, a leviathan grabbed him from behind.  Dean was about to help when he himself was yanked to the right by another.  Thankfully, he had already grabbed his weapon.  He wrenched himself from the creature’s grasp and swung.  He missed, the leviathan anticipating his move, but as the monster opened its gaping jaw, Benny came up from behind and beheaded it in one clean swoop.  The two men looked at each other for a moment, catching their breath.

     Cas, Dean noticed a second later, was struggling.  His blade was a good few feet away from him, and the leviathan had him backed up against a tree.  “Cas, get out of there!” Dean yelled, but the angel calmly raised his hand, placing his palm on the creature’s forehead and smiting it in one fell swoop.  As the body dropped to the ground, smoking, the angel looked at Dean and smiled smugly as they fell back into a brisk pace in the direction they had been heading.

     “You do not believe I can defend myself,” the angel stated, but his tone was playful and light, far from the offended expression Dean had been expecting from him.

     “Nah, man, I know you can; it’s just… I keep forgetting you’re back up to full power again, you know?  I keep expecting, well, the unexpected.”

     “It’s quite alright, Dean.  I suppose we both do a fair share of worrying about each other.”

     “I gotta admit, dude, you scare me sometimes with all your close calls.”

     Dean did not notice how close they had gotten until their hands brushed unexpectedly, but he did not pull away and neither did Cas.  In fact, at that moment, the angel grasped his hand firmly and admitted, “You too, Dean, but I’m starting to believe that it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

     Dean squeezed Cas’s fingers as a response, but as his grip loosened, he discovered with a jolt that he felt no inclination to let go.  Noting that Benny was a good distance away, he relented to his instincts and allowed their fingers to remain interlocked.  It was okay, he decided, as long as his mind firmly refused to acknowledge it as “holding hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave kudos, comment, bookmark, etc. Whatever floats your boat aka the SS Destiel ship.


	3. Healing Touch

     “What are we doing, Dean?”

      “What do you mean, ‘what are we doing?’  We’re looking for a way out of this place, that’s what we’re doing, Cas!”

     The angel huffed in frustration, handing Dean the weapon he had lost in their latest skirmish.  “I mean, why are you dragging me around with you?  This is the fourth time we’ve been attacked today and I’m pretty sure others are on their way.  I’m a danger to you both,” he insisted, addressing Benny as well.  “I’m a beacon; I’m practically a magnet to these creatures.  They will not stop until all three of us are dead, especially you and me, Dean.”

     “The angel’s got a point, brother.”

     “Stay out of this, Benny.  This is about Cas and me,” Dean growled.

     “He’s right Dean.”

     “No, he’s not!  Look, I’m not exactly blending in myself!  I’m a target too.”

     “Not to the extent that I am.  These creatures are part-human, for the most part.  It is harder to distinguish you from themselves.”

     “Cas, no.  I can’t.  I need you.”

     Castiel looked at him sadly.  “No, you don’t.  You need food, water, air.  Every moment in my presence brings you closer to your death.”

     “I don’t freakin’ care.”

     “You should,” he responded, getting dangerously close.   “You know what I need, Dean?  I need you to live.  I need to feel that for one time in my existence, I’ve finally done something good for you.  That I haven’t failed you like every other time I thought I was doing the right thing.  Coming with you is not the right thing.  Not if it gets you killed.”

     “I don’t have much left, Cas!” he spat angrily.  “I can’t lose you.  Not this time!”

     “Do you think I want to lose you?  Dean, every fiber of my being is telling me I should be with you at any cost, but I _know_ that your life is a cost that is too high,” he insisted, getting right into Dean’s face.  “I may not know much about humanity, but I do know that you sometimes say, ‘if you love something, let it—’” he stopped, noticing for the first time a trickle of blood down Dean’s cheek.  “You’ve been wounded,” he stated softly, mournfully.  “It’s my fault.”

     The angel brought his hand to the injury, intending to heal it, but Dean felt a tug somewhere deep inside him and before he could second guess himself, he pulled Cas against him and kissed him hungrily.  His hands were tangled in the fabric of Cas’s coat, intent on never letting go, no matter how much Cas would protest, but at that moment, Cas was as far from protest as he could be.  He growled in the back of his throat, winding his arms around Dean’s shoulders and gripping the collar of his shirt.  Dean responded by grasping at Cas’s messy hair, pulling him into an even deeper kiss.  Somehow, the rage bubbling inside him had turned into pure uncontrolled passion, flames licking at his belly and a euphoric rush passing through his head.  He had never been so aware of his own body, suddenly feeling his heart beat with growing intensity, his fingers and lips taking in every little sensation.  He breathed in, filling himself with a scent that was dirty and musty and tired, but somehow, inexplicably and wonderfully Cas.

     After thirty seconds or so, Benny wolf-whistled and Dean couldn’t help but be a little offended until his head finally straightened out.  Realizing the implication of the sound, he unenthusiastically tore himself away from Castiel’s embrace, yanking the angel’s arm so they stood firmly back to back.

     “Dean?” Cas questioned unsurely, and the hunter could not distinguish whether his tone was wounded, confused, or frightened.  Regardless, he rubbed the angel’s arm lightly with his free hand as creatures began to emerge from the trees.

     “I do not deserve your affection,” the angel claimed, swinging his blade at an oncoming leviathan.

     “Join the club,” Dean retorted passionately as he severed one’s head from its meaty neck.

     “I have seen your soul and it is pure.  You deserve far more than what I could ever give you.”

     “Yeah?  Well too bad because I want you and no one else,” he said fiercely.

     “Dean, I have committed horrendous crimes against my brethren, the people on Earth, and you and your brother.  This is no more than what I deserve.”  The angel grasped Dean’s hand and swiveled so they changed places.   Cas smoothly decapitated the leviathan that reached out for Dean a second earlier, giving the hunter time to wipe his blade clean before burying it deep into another’s neck.

      “What you deserve?  What are you saying?  That this is—?”

     “Penance.”

     “Hell no,” Dean growled.  He pulled Cas back to the other side of him and took on two more that had been charging for the angel.  “Cas, that’s just… that’s stupid.  There’s no other word for it.”

     “It is my duty,” the angel insisted.

     “You want to do penance?  That’s fine, but this is not the way to do it.  I am telling you man, nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , could hurt me more than leaving you down here.  You know that now.”  He managed to take out one of the monsters, but the second nearly overpowered him.  Benny pulled it off and dispatched it with a clean swipe.

     “Careful,” the vampire warned.  “This one’s a big pack.”

     “That _I_ have attracted.”

     “I have to disagree on this one, brother.  It’s because we’re getting closer to the portal,” Benny said calmly, taking down two more.

     “You’re coming with me Cas.  You want to do penance or whatever?  Fine.  But do it up there.  Help me and Sam save the world from the next big threat that comes around.  Help us save the people you think you’ve wronged.  That’s all you owe me, man, nothing more, nothing less.  If you really want to do something for me, do this.”  Dean dodged a swipe from one of the oncoming terrors but received a blow to the face from another right beside him.  He swung wildly with his weapon, but it glanced off the woman’s shoulder, and she pushed him to the ground.  Benny caught her from the side, but two more took her place, one stepping on his hand as he desperately reached for the blade, the other opening his jaw and revealing revolting teeth.

   “I would do anything for you,” Cas insisted.  As the leviathan came forwards, lunging at Dean with his gaping mouth, Cas flew at him, sending them both to the ground.  Dean took the opportunity to pull his captor down with his legs.  He quickly recovered his weapon, slicing off the head of the hideous creature and turning just in time to see Castiel pinned under his attacker.  The angel desperately reached upwards to smite it, but the monster’s head stayed out of reach.  Dean rushed to the struggling pair, just in time to cut off the beast’s head before it took a bite.

     “That’s the problem, man,” Dean responded, helping Cas to his feet.  “You’re prepared to do anything for me, sacrificing yourself to make up for the crap you got pulled into, but Cas, I don’t want any of that.  I just need you.”

     “Listen, brother, I’m glad things are working out for you, but we gotta move,” said Benny, indicating for the two of them to follow.

     “Hey, Benny, wrong way,” said Dean.

     “No, he’s right,” Cas insisted.  “We can’t keep going when it’s this dark.”

     “Okay, but why are we going backwards?”

     “The closer we are to the portal, the more threats we will encounter,” Castiel informed him.  “If we backtrack even just little bit, we will be a lot safer.”

     “Huh,” Dean mumbled thoughtfully.  “Okay then.”  He fell into step behind the vampire and angel, an unlikely crew, he thought to himself.

*             *             *

     Benny stopped, angel and hunter coming up behind him.  “This looks like a fair enough spot.  I’m going to survey the area,” he informed them carefully.  “Might be a while,” continued, giving Dean a knowing look that made his face flush.

     “Uh, yeah,” the hunter coughed uncomfortably, willing the heat in his face to go away.  “Take as long as you need.”  Castiel looked at him questioningly but did not say anything.  The pair began to settle down, dropping their belongings and collapsing onto a patch of soft ground.

    “So,” Dean asked hesitantly, “we’re on the same page?  You’re coming with us, right?”

     “I will go with you.  I just want you to be prepared, though, for anything.  I don’t know if I will be able to pass through.”

     Dean breathed in deeply, trying not to think of that possibility.  “I know.  But you’re gonna try?”

     “Yes.  I’ll do everything in my power to make it through with you.”

     Dean closed his eyes and pulled Castiel in close to him.  “I’m scared of losing you, Cas.  Anything could happen tomorrow.”

     “It’s unlikely we will even be close to the portal tomorrow.  You shouldn’t worry.”

     “I know,” the hunter responded, taking a moment to plant a kiss into the angel’s dark hair.  “But it’s only going to get more dangerous from here.”

     Castiel turned to him and placed a gentle kiss on his soft lips.  “After today, I don’t have many regrets.”

     Dean felt a sudden rush of lightness.  “Same here.  I, uh… I never had any clue that was how you... that you and me…”

     “Me neither.  But now, I am glad.  I love you, Dean,” Cas said seriously and kissed him again, much harder this time.  Without even taking a breath he began to trail hungry kisses down Dean’s neck and collarbone, making him groan and shift in his seated position.

     “Cas,” he gasped as the angel continued his feverish kisses and began to messily undo his buttons.  “Cas, wait.”

     “I’m sorry,” the angel said huskily, and Dean was thrilled to discover that his eyes were dark with lust.  “I just assumed you wanted this.”

     “I do.  It’s just that we’re moving pretty fast.  Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

     “I have spent years waiting for this moment, Dean.  I’m not sure I can wait any longer.”

     That was all Dean needed to hear before he struggled to remove the angel’s trenchcoat in the darkness.  In the meantime, Cas wrestled him out of his shirt and jacket and unlaced his boots at record-breaking speed.

     “I told you that I don’t have many regrets,” the angel panted.  “Tonight, I’d like to make sure I have none.”

     “Cas,” Dean groaned, finally slipping out of the last of his clothes.  He eagerly pressed his newly naked body against Cas, moaning again as the angel bit down on his collarbone.

     “I need you, Dean,” the angel hummed.  “I’m ready.”

     They made love in the most emotional, connected way that Dean could ever recall.  He didn’t know that he could ever feel so much from sex.  Some of it was sloppy, rough, as it was a new experience for both of them, but most of all it was filled with raw passion and adoration.  It filled both their hearts to the brim, and for one shining moment, they forgot about all their troubles.

*             *             *

     When Benny returned, Cas and Dean were once again fully clothed, if not a bit mussed.  Like the night before, Castiel sat with his back against a tree, and this time, Dean’s head fully in his lap.  Dean shot Benny a grateful glance, which the vampire acknowledged with a firm nod before standing watch.

     “That was reckless of us,” Castiel murmured, running his fingers over Dean’s knuckles.

     “Do you regret it?” he whispered nervously, doubt curling in his heart.

     “No,” Cas assured him.  “Not at all.  But with ‘who-knows-what’ crawling about…”

     “Dangerous, but worth it.”

     Cas hummed his agreement.

     “As much as it pains me to say it, dude, we should probably not try that again until we’re home.”

     The angel reluctantly conceded, “You’re right.  It is far too risky to let our guards down like that, especially without Benny watching over us.”

     “All the more motivation to get our asses back there.”

     After a brief pause, Cas softly asked, “Dean, do you love me?”

     Dean was startled by the question, but he had admittedly been giving it a lot of thought ever since they had separated.  “It’s not an easy thing for me to say, Cas.  I know I’m not always the best at showing it, but yeah, I do.  And I wish I could do more.”

     Cas smiled slightly.  “You do enough.  This is an even newer experience for me; I’m sure I will make plenty of mistakes along the way.  I’m not all that worried though.”

     “No?”

     “We do share a more profound bond.”  Dean chuckled lightly and eventually fell asleep with one of Castiel’s hands on his shoulder and the other over his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback, kudos, etc!
> 
> I'm putting this chapter out so early because I know I will be busy in the next few weeks. I'll hopefully have a new one out early next week, but I hope this one makes up for it if I can't get it done!


	4. Flickers of Tan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter; I've been really busy and I wanted to make sure I got this right. The next one should talk no longer than a week. Please enjoy! Things are about to get interesting! We're starting to diverge from canon!

     As Dean was thrown to the ground, Cas rushed at the leviathans, glancing towards the hunter that had rolled a considerable distance away.  The angel reached up to smite them, but his second of concern had cost him.  The male leviathan grasped his arm and the female delivered a blow from the side that sent the angel to his knees.  Dean struggled to his feet, fighting through the pain as Cas received blow after blow.  Shortly before Dean reached him, the angel got the upper hand on the female leviathan, pushing her to her hands and knees as the male came up behind him.  Luckily, Dean was there just in time to decapitate him before he could do any more harm to Cas.  The female rushed back at them a moment later, but she was no match for the pair; Cas skillfully grabbed her and held her down as Dean severed her head in one fell swoop.

     Cas stayed on his knees for a moment, breathless until Dean pulled him to his feet.  As the hunter did so, he blinked confusedly, swearing that he had seen a shadow of something on Cas’s back for a second.  He did not dwell on it any further as he held the angel’s arm as the divine being struggled to regain his balance.

     “Are you okay?” he demanded.

     The angel rubbed his face vigorously, emerging from behind his hands with a much clearer look in his eyes.  “Yes,” he responded, and Dean couldn’t argue.  He didn’t think he’d be any steadier on his feet after getting punched in the face so many times.

     He glanced skywards.  “We gotta move!  The portal’s closing,” he bellowed over the noise of the swirling mass.  Together, they stumbled up the rocky hill, tripping over the rough surface as they fought their way up the slope.  Halfway to the top, Cas collapsed, scrambling to keep himself from sliding back downwards.  “Cas!  Damn it, c’mon!”  Dean reached back and pulled the angel closer by the back of his trench coat.  The angel was like dead weight despite his struggle towards the peak of the hill.

     Dean stepped into the portal, losing contact with Cas for only a moment.  “C’mon!” he repeated urgently, stretching out his arm.  Cas grasped it desperately, a new light in his eyes.

     “Dean!” the angel called, and somehow, the hunter found the superhuman strength to lift Castiel with a single arm and pull him in just as the portal closed.  As he spun wildly, he gripped Cas tightly to his chest, valuing every moment of their contact.  However, it was over too soon.  The second they were immersed in blackness, Dean felt Cas pull away from him. 

     “Hold on!” Dean hollered, but his muscles could not handle the strain.  After a few seconds, the angel was yanked from his arms by an unnatural force that Dean could not explain.  “Cas!” he called, but it was in vain.  The angel had no way of getting back to him at the moment, not even if he had heard.

     Then, very suddenly, he was on Earth.  He lay supine on the cold ground, feeling the leaves and rocks pressed firmly against his back.  Leafless trees stretched towards the sky, and if it wasn’t for the sun shining through the branches, Dean would have wondered if he was still in Purgatory.  “Cas?” he whispered despondently, pawing the ground beside him, hoping to catch a tuft of hair or a corner of fabric, but there was nothing there.  Cas was gone and he had no idea where to start looking.

     “I’ll find you,” the hunter promised.  “I’ll find you if it’s the last thing I do.”  He winced as the burn in his arm flared up.  “Okay,” he growled, “I know, Benny, I’ll deal with you first.”  He rubbed his arm which was now mainly absent of pain.  He almost wished it would burn again because he now felt terribly alone.

*             *             *

   “Huh, that was fast,” the hunter huffed, looking up from the ground where his friend’s bones had lain a moment before.  The vampire was now standing behind him, looking strong and tall and alive.

     “No thanks to you,” he wisecracked.

     “You’re welcome,” Dean retorted, getting back on his feet as Benny rolled his head in a circle, bones popping loudly.  “Everything working?”

     “Well enough.”  The vampire exposed his fangs with a slight smile, but as he closed his jaw, his face was serious once more.  “I don’t know everything that happened in the time you were carrying my soul, but the angel…?”

     Dean rubbed his face in aggravation and distress.  “I dunno.  He’s alive as far as I know, but I have no clue where he is or how to find him.  I think he’s going to have to find me.”

     “I know what we talked about, but the tables have turned, brother.  I’m willing to help you.”

     Dean sighed, tempted by the offer, but unwilling to bite.  “I know, but this is something I gotta do on my own.  You understand?”

     The vampire nodded.  “I suppose I do.  Good luck to you.”  He extended his hand, and as Dean shook it, he pulled him into a hug.  “We made it, brother, and I’m betting anything that the angel did too.”

     Dean allowed himself the smallest of smiles, but it didn’t quite reach the eyes.  He didn’t think there was a chance of that happening until he was completely sure his lover was okay.

*             *             *

     When Sam first walked into Rufus’s cabin, Dean’s first instinct was to pull him into a hug and never let him go.

     He attacked him instead.

     He reluctantly threw his brother to the ground, dousing him in holy water as the younger of the two spluttered.

     “What the –?”  Sam cried.  “I’m not a demon!”

     Dean’s only response was spray him with Borax.

     “Or a leviathan,” he insisted, but Dean grasped his wrist and pushed a silver blade into the skin of his arm before he was completely satisfied.

     “Or a shifter,” the older hunter agreed, ignoring his brother’s cry of pain.  “Good.  My turn.”  When Sam merely gaped at him, Dean insisted, “Come on.  Let’s go.”

     “I don’t need to,” Sam informed him with raised brows.  “I know it’s you.”

     “Damn it, Sammy!” he cried, panic welling up at his brother’s lack of caution.  “Come on!”  He splashed the water and Borax all over himself and held out the knife expectantly.

     “No, Dean.  Can I just say hello?”

     Growling in the back of his throat, Dean yanked up the sleeve of his shirt and slashed a cut in his own arm.  He looked up and said, “All right,” smiling for the first time as he said it.  “Well… Let’s do this,” he continued, opening his arms.

     Sam’s forehead wrinkled.  “I don’t know whether to give you a hug or take a shower.”  Nevertheless, he shuffled into Dean’s arms as the older hunter chuckled in response.  Sam was surprised at the firmness and longevity of the hug.  All in all, Dean’s behavior was not comforting.

     And then there was the subject of Cas.

     Sam tried to ease into it.  “Dude, you’re freaking alive,” he spoke, running his fingers through his grown-out hair.  “I mean, what the hell happened?”

     “Well,” Dean said with an attitude, “I guess standing too close to exploding Dick sends your ass straight to Purgatory.”

     “You were in Purgatory?  For the whole year?”

     “Yeah, time flies when you’re running for your life,” he wisecracked.

     “Well, how’d you get out?” Sam questioned, patience starting to run thin.

     “I guess whoever built that box didn’t want me in there any more than I did.”

     “What does that mean?”

     “I’m here, okay?” Dean spat irritably.

     “What about Cas?”  Sam tried to sound as sympathetic as possible, but his tone had adopted a harder edge to it.  “Was he there?”

     Dean turned away and breathed deeply.  “Yeah… Cas didn’t make it,” he said softly.  “Or at least, I don’t know.”

      “What do you mean you don’t know?”

     “I mean I don’t know, Sam!”  Dean’s face crumpled and his body followed a second later.  He collapsed onto his haunches and dipped his head between his arms, shoulders heaving with emotion.  Sam quickly knelt beside him and pulled him into another embrace, concern rising as Dean did not even attempt to push him away.

    “We escaped together,” Dean explained, voice muffled by the sleeve of his shirt.  “But when he popped out, if he popped out, we got back to Earth in different places.  He could be halfway across the planet.”

     “How long has it been?” Sam asked.

     “Almost two months.  If he was alive, he would have found me by now.”

      Sam was silent for a moment.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  There’s still a chance—”

     “No, there’s not.  Being hopeful is just being delusional,” he said harshly, but he allowed Sam to hold him for many minutes more.

*             *             *

     Dean’s face was trapped in the dingy sink of a rundown motel room.

     It wasn’t physically stuck, per say, but once Dean ducked his head and began to splash it with water, he realized that he had very little motivation to straighten up again.  Instead, he continued to splash his skin with the lukewarm water, hoping it would bring him some unexpected relief and clear his head.

     Sam was buried in research, but Dean was only half listening to what his brother was saying.  His mind was stuck on a billion other things, namely Sam’s betrayal of him and Kevin to live an apple pie life.  The idea was still reeling around in the front of his mind, waiting for his brain to finally wrap itself around it.  However, the thought of Cas weighed on him the most.  He tried to clear the flickers of tan from the corners of his eyes and focus on what Sam was saying.

     “Hey, so it's not just Americans who are vanishing. This guy, Luigi Ponzi disappeared walking between two subway cars in Rome. And right above ground, there was a freak hail storm.”

     “So, we going to Rome? Wouldn't be too shabby,” Dean commented, but he had little enthusiasm for the idea.  Regardless, he decided it was time to pull himself together, so he turned off the water and rubbed a towel across his face, internally groaning as a flash of tan bloomed in the corner of his vision.  He closed his eyes, unwilling to give in to what would surely be another disappointment.  Besides, he didn’t think he could bear to explain to Sam that he was seeing things again.

     His willpower was not very strong.  This time, the vision had seemed too real to him.  He was close to convinced that he had really caught a glimpse of Cas standing behind him.  He took a deep mournful breath and looked up into the mirror, caught by complete surprise as he made eye contact with a being that certainly looked a lot like the angel Castiel.

     “Cas?” he wanted to ask, but his breath hitched in his throat.  He blinked dumbly for a moment before whirling around to take in the angel’s full form.  He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, trying to gauge if what he was seeing was real.  The mild pain did not change the picture in front of him, but he was not fully convinced until Cas greeted him seriously with his trademark, “Hello, Dean.”

     “Wh—Cas?” cried Sam, pushing away his laptop.  “How?!”  Dean could barely hear his brother.  His attention was fully focused on his… more-than-a-friend friend.  Cautiously, he raised a hand and put it to Cas’s chest, fighting back tears as he felt Cas’s breath rise in him and saw his blue eyes flutter.  The gentle touch turned into a grasp, and he pulled Castiel in tight to him, breathing deeply into his neck despite the fact that it was still grimy and sticky with sweat.

     “Oh my God,” he gasped, pressing his hands into Castiel’s back.  “Oh my… Cas.  It’s really – I can’t believe it.  I just can’t believe it.”

     “Yeah, me neither,” Sam said, straightening in his chair.  He waited until the two men pulled away from each other before continuing, “I mean, it seemed like you were a goner.  Why did it take you so long to get to us?”

     Cas turned to respond, but his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped against the doorframe.  Dean let out a yell and reached forward to catch him, but Cas was back on his feet in an instant, face scrunched nonetheless.

     “Cas?!  What the hell just happened?  Are you okay?” Dean demanded, running his hand down Cas’s front to check for wounds.  He didn’t get any further than the angel’s chest, however, as Castiel flinched away from the touch, a slight grimace still on his face.  Dean’s expression fell immediately, and Cas looked instantly guilty.  He squeezed Dean’s hand reassuringly, hoping that the human would understand the gesture.

     “I believe that is the answer to your question, Sam,” the angel responded, although he was looking mostly at Dean.  “My escape from Purgatory put a strain on my grace.  I have been extensively weakened by this excursion.  I was trying to reach out to you, but I do not believe I was fully here, back on Earth.”

     Dean took notice of the weight Cas was putting on him, and he motioned for Sam to pull out a chair.  “Here, man,” Dean said, “You should take a seat.”  He guided him carefully to the table and Cas fell into the chair a lot more heavily than Dean liked.

     “That must have been why you kept seeing him. I mean, you think?” Sam suggested.

     “Yeah,” Dean said simply, relieved that he hadn’t lost as many of his marbles as he had though.  “But hey, are you going to be okay?  Because this isn’t just some lack of mojo we’re talking about.  You look, uh, tired, Cas.  You’re not—”

     “Human?” the dark haired man interjected.  He shook his head.  “No, I’m not, but my grace has been depleted somewhat.  I should be back to normal within a few days.”

     “Jeez, how bad were you when you first resurfaced?  You must have been a wreck.”

     “What do you mean?” the angel questioned.  He looked small, hunched over in his chair as if in pain.  However, his face showed no indication of such a thing.

     “Well, you’ve had all this time to heal.  If this is how you are now…”

     Cas looked confused.  “I’ve only had a few days, Dean.”

     “What?  A few days?  Dude, it’s been months.  Why do you think I thought you were dead?”

     “Months?” he repeated, clearly alarmed.  “I have only been present on Earth for seventy two hours, at the most.”  His eyes calmed and he took on a more pensive expression.  “I suppose it makes sense.  The portal was meant for human travel only, so my journey took more time.  It is very fortunate that I made it out at all.”  Cas self-consciously looked down at himself, mistaking Dean’s concerned gaze for judgment.  “I’m dirty,” he muttered ashamedly.

     Dean put a caring hand on his shoulder, and Cas looked up at him.  “Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, then?  Then we can fill you in on what’s up.”  He offered Cas an arm to support himself on, but the angel seemed much steadier on his feet.  He stood without any assistance and walked into the bathroom with even steps.  His lips curled slightly as he gave Dean one last look and closed the door.

     It took all of Dean’s willpower to not follow his angel in, but he still wasn’t sure how he wanted to tell Sam about the new development in their relationship.  In fact, when he thought Castiel had died, he hadn’t been planning to tell Sam at all.  Now, he was unsure how to approach the topic, so he settled for taking Cas’s place at the table and sifting through his rapidly moving thoughts.

     “Do you think there’s anything to worry about here?” Sam mumbled after a good minute.

     “All I can do is worry until he improves,” Dean responded with a half-hearted shrug.  “If he says he’s okay, I guess I have to believe him, at least for now.”

     “Yeah… I guess I just can’t believe he’s really here in one piece.”

     “Me neither.  I was starting to think that maybe it was my fault, that he would be alive if I had just held on tighter so we came up together.  I’m pretty sure the only reason he got through at all was because I had him.  Man, Purgatory did not want to give his ass up.”

     At that moment, Cas strolled out of the bathroom, once again in a fresh looking suit and trench coat.  He was clean and well-groomed, hair once again neat and face free of stubble.  Although his skin had lost a lot of its warm look, his cheeks and nose were still a healthy pink and his eyes were clear and bright.  He smirked just a little bit cheekily as he wiped his hands, and Dean felt heat rise in his face as he struggled to hide a certain reaction that his body was having to Cas’s new appearance.

     “Better?” Cas asked somewhat teasingly.  Dean thought to himself, _screw it_ , and he leapt from his seat, free from inhibitions as he rushed to Cas and pulled him into a deep kiss.  The angel hummed smugly as Dean hungrily leaned in, unable to control his desires.  After a moment, they pulled away from each other, Dean’s heart fluttering nervously as the feelings of lust and adrenaline slowly faded.  He turned to Sam, heart sinking as he opened his eyes to see the younger of the two staring back with a slack jaw and shocked eyes.

     “Sammy,” he chuckled hollowly, gulping before continuing.  “As you can see, uh, some stuff happened between us when we were in Purgatory…” Sam’s expression did not change.  “Sam,” he said desperately.  “Please.  I thought you would understand.”

     Sam just shook his head and ordered simply, “Dean, turn around.”

     The older brother obeyed, and what he saw caused him to take a step back and stare as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, I left you with a cliff hanger! What do you think Sam and Dean saw that was so surprising? I would love to see your best guesses in the comments below!


	5. An Invisible Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to get a chapter out so soon, but I'm really on a roll today! I wrote this whole chapter today and I have a fourth of the next one done! :) enjoy

_“Dean, turn around.”_

_The older brother obeyed and what he saw caused him to take a step back and stare as well._

     “What the—?”  Dean stammered, gaping at the now-slightly rumpled angel.  Cas had a slightly dazed look in his eye as well, but he seemed confused by Dean’s comment.

     “Dean?” he questioned uncertainly.  The hunter crawled forward, mesmerized by something above and behind Cas’s head.  The angel noticed the cause of the brothers’ shock right as Dean reached his side and grabbed a tuft of silky feathers.

     “Are those your wings?” Sam squeaked as Cas’s new appendages spread and Dean stroked them in awe.

     “Dude!  Yeah!” was all Dean could manage.  Cas’s face flushed as Dean’s fingers ran through the feathers.  Soon, Sam was on the other side of him and feeling the downy structures as well.

     Cas stiffened awkwardly and muttered, “How embarrassing.”  The dark feathers rustled as he spoke.

     “Dude, these are amazing,” Dean spluttered.  “How could they be embarrassing to you?”

     “To let others see and touch an angel’s wings is a very intimate act,” Cas explained, still looking sheepish but otherwise better after Dean’s reverent comment.  “It’s the reason I have never exposed them before.”  Sam instantly drew back, face red as a beet.  Cas, upon seeing Sam’s discomfort reassured, “That does not mean exclusively sexual intimacy.  In a time when my brothers and I were closer, we never met without touching each other’s wings as an expression of love and respect.  But it’s been centuries since then.  The act is… abnormal to me now.”  Sam looked physically relieved, but he made no move to make contact again.

     “Yeah, but why are they out now when we’ve never seen them before?”  Dean asked.  “Dude… did I give you an angel boner?!”

     “No,” Cas insisted quickly, too quickly.  Sam coughed uncomfortably and Cas glared, pulling his wings out of Dean’s grasp and folding them neatly.  “My wings are very closely connected to my emotions, but the main reason for their exposure is my depleted state of grace.  It takes power to keep them hidden.”

     Dean looked disappointed.  “How come you never showed them to me?  Even after we became… y’know…?”

    Cas sighed, “My wings are considered abominations, so I did not wish to flaunt them.”  When Dean looked even more confused, Cas explained, “Look at the feathers, Dean.  What color are they?”

     “Uh, black.  Wait… no…” Dean examined them closely, noting for the first time that they shimmered in the light.  “They’re sorta blue…ish.  Navy.”

     “They used to be the color of the sky.  This is what happens to an angel’s feathers when they are exposed to fire: they darken.  I’ve been to Hell twice.  My feathers are the darkest since Lucifer’s.  His were pure black and mine are just barely a step above.”

      “That doesn’t mean anything, Cas.” Sam said quickly.

      “Yeah, man, you went to Hell to freakin’ _save_ us.  Lucifer went to Hell because he’s a dick.”

     Cas offered a small smile.  “Thank you, both.  I suppose I overreacted.”

     “Here,” Dean said, clicking on the television and handing the remote to the confused angel.  “Sit, take a breather, and enjoy yourself.  Sam, you keep working and I’ll grab us all a pack of beer.  Sound good?”

     Both the angel and long-haired hunter nodded their consent and Dean left the room feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

*             *             *

     “What’s the latest?” Dean questioned, reentering the motel a few minutes later.

     “The latest is... nothing,” Sam responded, clearly frustrated.  “It's like it all stopped. No freak disappearances linked to any freak natural events.”

     Dean put down a can of beer and leaned over Sam’s shoulder to see the laptop.  “So how many we got?  Seven?”

     “Yeah, uh, Luigi, Justin, Aaron, Maria—”

     “Maria, Dennis, Krista, Sven,” the angel interjected.  When the brothers turned to look at him incredulously, he showed no acknowledgement of their astonishment.  He merely twitched his wings happily and commented, “I missed television.”

     “Wait, Cas, how did you know those are the names?”

     “Well, they’re prophets,” Castiel clarified, only sparing them a glance as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

     “Prophets?” Dean inquired.

     “Yes, angels instinctively know the names of every prophet – past, present, and future.”

     “So this list is the name of every one of 'em that exists?”

     Cas replied without looking away from the TV, “Yes, until the next generation is born.”  He added as an afterthought, “Plus Kevin Tran, of course. The other seven are future prophets, since, uh, only one can exist at a time.”

     “Uh, how is Kevin a prophet if Chuck is a prophet?”  The taller hunter asked.

     “I'm not sure what happened to Chuck, but, um... he must be dead,” Castiel deduced, looking at the Winchesters sympathetically.

     “So, the next one comes off the bench if Kevin goes down?” Dean demanded.

     “Exactly. And they have no idea who they are, of course.”

     “Crowley,” Sam growled.

     “Insurance,” Dean bet.  “Boy he’s getting desperate.”

     Castiel turned his attention to the conversation, finally shutting off the TV to stand at Dean’s side.

     “Explains all the weird phenomena,” surmised Sam.  “Lower-level demons nabbing heavy-duty cargo. The vessels of God's Word – boom.”

     “I get the feeling something’s going on,” Cas agreed.  Dean’s eyes raked his body shamelessly.

     Just then, Sam’s phone began to ring.  He picked it up as Dean offered, “Beer?”

     Castiel’s feathers bristled.  “No, thank you,” he declined, looking slightly queasy at the idea of it.  “The last time I consumed alcohol was an unpleasant experience for me.”

     “That’s because you weren’t doing it right,” Dean insisted.  Cas still refused to take the beverage and Dean laughed lightly.

     “Hey.  Hey, guys!” Sam broke in, catching their attention once more.  “Crowley’s got Kevin.”

*             *             *

     “We’re very near Kevin,” Cas commented, striding ahead of Dean through the factory.  Dean had refused letting him bring up the rear.  He wanted to be sure Cas was protected if he unexpectedly lost his strength again.

     Dean quickly discovered his instincts had been good.  He turned to find a menacing looking demon behind him, ready to attack.  He lunged at the demon with the knife, but he was a moment too late.  He was flung backwards by an invisible force and was immediately tangled in dangling chains.  However, the encounter had given Cas a few seconds to prepare himself for the attack.  The demon came towards him next, stretching his hand out and expelling a force that made Castiel wince and moan ever so slightly.  He faltered backwards, pain just barely visible in his face.  Still, the angel was able to overpower the creature, and he raised his hand, smiting the demon successfully.

     A second later, he spun and grappled at the wall, leaning heavily into it as he groaned and his wings flickered in and out of existence.  Dean struggled out of the chains and rushed to his side.

     “What the hell’s going on?” Dean uttered, both men gasping for air.  “You’re not all the way back, are you?”  The angel avoided his eyes and shied away from his touch.  “Dammit, Cas!  You said you’d be fine!”

     “I will be, regardless of whether I am up to full power,” Castiel insisted, straightening up and successfully hiding his wings once more.  “Let’s go.  We may not have much time.”

     Dean shook his head, but did not fight him on the matter.  He briskly walked to a locked door and looked at the angel questioningly.  Cas nodded.

     “This has to be it,” the hunger muttered, picking the lock.  The steel contraption made several clicking noises but refused to open.  “It’s not working,” he growled.

     “Dean, I’m going in,” the angel informed him.

     “Cas, no,” Dean protested.  “You’re not strong enough.”  Cas gave Dean a gentle kiss on the cheek and disappeared right out of his grasp.

     “Crap,” growled the hunter, picking furiously at the lock once more.  “Dammit, Cas!”

     He could hear muffled voices on the other side, but was unable to make out their words until they rose in volume.

     “You look like hell,” Dean could hear Crowley say, “and I should know.  You’re not up for this.”  Dean silently agreed and he pulled desperately at the lock.

     “Maybe you can get it up, but you can’t keep it up,” the demon insisted.  Dean noticed light emanating from under the door.

     “Cas, no,” he breathed.  He gave up picking the lock, and he dropped his tools to the ground, instead electing to pound at it with the heel of his boot.  The light and sound from the room intensified.

     “You’re bluffing.”

     “Do you want to take that chance?” the angel’s gravelly voice threatened.

     Dean broke the lock right as a loud crashing sound resounded through the room.  He burst through the door just in time to see Cas collapse on the ground, broken table and half a tablet right beside him.

     Cas curled in a ball and rolled onto his side, wings splayed about him and glass falling from his coat.  “Hey, Cas!” Dean bellowed, touching the angel’s cheek.  “Come on, man, please be okay!”

     “Dean,” the angel groaned, looking thoroughly exhausted, but disappointed above all else.  Kevin openly stared at his feathery appendages.

     “It’s okay, I got you.  Take it easy,” he ordered, helping Castiel into a seated position.  “Can you walk?”

     The angel teetered to his feet, swaying dangerously backwards before Dean grasped him with firm arms.  “Lean on me,” he insisted, allowing his lover to put weight on his shoulder.  The young prophet made no comment, but looked forlornly at the destroyed gray slab.

*             *             *

     “That was a bonehead move back there,” Dean said fiercely, loading weapons into the back of the Impala.  “You could have gotten yourself killed.  Why didn’t you wait for me?”

     “Well, I didn’t get killed,” Castiel reasoned as Dean slammed the trunk closed.  “And it worked.”

     “And if it didn’t?” Dean demanded, hurt.

     “It would have been my problem.”  He absentmindedly pulled at the waistband of his pants.

     “No, Cas,” he snarled.  “No, it would be my problem too.  You know why?  Because I need you.  I just got you back, I don’t need you getting killed.  Do you know what that would do to me?”

     Cas looked down guiltily, still tugging on his clothing with a furrowed brow.  “I, um, didn’t think of it like that.”

     “Yeah?  Well, think of it like that next time.”  He paused before continuing more softly, “Look at you, Cas, you’re a mess.”  He gestured towards Cas’s posture, pointing to the way he slouched against the hood, knuckles white as he gripped the sideview mirror.  He sighed, then said, “Stay with us,” resolutely.  “At least until you get better.”

     “I won’t stop hunting with you, Dean,” he replied sternly, suddenly looking up and pulling his trenchcoat around his body, hiding the shirt and tie underneath.  “I will not allow you to keep me cooped up so I am ‘safe.’”

     “Yeah, I know,” the hunter scoffed.  “Just, let me watch over you, at least until you’re better?  And maybe even after that,” he mumbled with an embarrassed cough.

     Castiel’s eyebrows rose dramatically.  “Dean,” he murmured.  “I—now that the situation between us is different… I had no intention of leaving you and Sam, not in the foreseeable future,” he concluded messily.

     “Oh!  Well, um, good.”  He smiled, patting Cas gently on the shoulder as Sam joined them.

     “You two ready to go?”

     The three men climbed into the Impala, Sam and Cas fighting for shotgun and Sam winning out in the end.  Still, Cas could not be too upset as he grinned at Sam’s smug face from the back seat.  He could not wait for their next adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha haha what a nice ending I can't wait for the next chapter so I can PUT THEM IN DANGER MWAHAHA I mean love them some more.


	6. Sticking Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during the season 8 episode "Hunter Heroici."

     Cas quickly determined that he did not enjoy riding in the back seat.  Something felt different from the last time he had been inside the Impala.  Perhaps being close to Dean was a distraction from the altogether unpleasant experience of riding inside a motor vehicle.  Without Dean directly beside him, Cas was fully aware of how the seatbelt was pressed more tightly around his waist than he would like, and how the seat sometimes squeaked when he moved, and how the monotonous motion of the car made his head and stomach uneasy and his wings twitch in impatience.  Still, he found that listening to the brothers sing along badly to their favorite songs was an effective distraction, and he discovered soon after that reading the newspaper had the same effect and was considerably more relaxing.

     They traveled for quite a few hours, finally stopping at a Gas ‘n Sip on their way to nowhere in particular.  Cas was appreciative of the chance to stretch his legs (but unfortunately not his wings, as they were in public so he had to keep the appendages tucked and invisible).

     “What’s the word, Cas?” the older hunter asked as the angel skimmed an uninteresting article about some teen pop sensation, “Justin Beaver.”

     Cas looked slightly offended by the question.  “It’s a shortened version of my name.”

     Dean shook his head at that, looking somewhat amused.  “Yes, it is.  I meant what’s the word on the Word?” he clarified.  “Any, uh, tablet chatter on angel radio?”

     “I couldn’t say.  I turned that off.”

     Both of the hunters turned to him with surprised expressions.

     “You can do that?” asked Sam.

     “Yeah, it's a simple matter of blocking out certain subsonic frequencies. I could draw you a diagram if you want.”

     Dean grinned broadly, a rare occurrence until Cas entered back into his life.  “Maybe later.”

     “Why did you decide to turn it off?” Sam questioned lightly.

     “Because it's a direct link to Heaven. And I don't want anything to do with that place – not anymore,” he asserted, gazing into Dean’s eyes which began to sparkle with passion.

     “You’re really with us for good, then,” Dean stated.  It wasn’t a question.

     “Yes,” he confirmed, smiling.  “Look, I even may have found us a case.  Oklahoma City – a man's heart jumped ten feet out of his chest.  It sounds like our kind of thing, right?” he questioned.  Dean’s heart swelled with pride at how much he sounded like a Winchester.

     “Absolutely.  Let’s go.”

     “Wait!  Dean, Sam… May I ride in the front this time?”

     The brothers exchanged looks.  Dean was about to reluctantly deny his request when Sam graciously said, “Sure, Cas.  It is your case after all.”

     Cas smiled as he clambered into the passenger seat, both hunters shaking their heads at his enthusiasm.  “Hey,” Dean barked playfully when Castiel began to pull the seatbelt away from his body again.  “Stop fidgeting or I’ll make you ride up on the roof.”  Cas grinned once more, and the restrictive band was soon forgotten.

*             *             *

 

     The door of the motel opened and closed, breaking Dean’s concentration as he scrolled through articles on his laptop.  “What’s up Cas?” he asked, still skimming the page fruitlessly.

     “The ceiling occupies the space immediately above us, but the heavens above extend infinitely outward into what you would call – Oh.  That was a saying,” he finished lamely.

     “Yeah,” Dean affirmed with a chuckle.  “But you’re catching on.”

     “I believe the answer to your intended question is ‘nothing much.’”

     “Same here,” he sighed, snapping the laptop shut.  “I don’t have any idea what this tricky son of a bitch could be – Whoa!” he halted, jumping to his feet.  “That’s not nothing!” he choked, eyes running up and down Cas’s body.

     “I am unaware of what you’re referring to,” the angel replied, turning away from Dean and walking towards the bed they intended to share (Sam had booked his own room even though Dean insisted that he and Cas would not have sex again until the angel was feeling completely well).

     “You’re wearing new clothes,” Dean observed incredulously.

     “No I’m not,” he denied quickly, pulling his trench coat across his body.

     “Dude.  Yes you are,” Dean insisted, yanking it open once more.  Castiel was dressed similarly, with a white button down shirt and black slacks accompanied by the same tie.  However, Dean could pick out the different details such as the new pocket on Cas’s dress shirt, and he noticed that Cas’s new digs were somehow even more ill-fitting than the previous ones.  “You’ve been wearing the same thing for five years; did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

     Cas stammered nonsense and backed away, bumping into the bed and falling on his back into the springy mattress.

     “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” the hunter added.  “We all need a change now and then.  But, uh, maybe next time let me help you.  You look like you didn’t know how to read the size tags.”  He grinned at Castiel’s offended expression and kissed him lightly on the lips.  He sighed and asked, “So, what’s the long-term plan?  You’re really sticking around?”

     “There are many things I am unsure of, but I am certain I will be staying.”

     “So what’s this, then?” Dean asked, gesturing towards Cas’s clothes as he sat next to his boyfriend (is that what he was calling him now?) at the edge of the bed.  “Is this you trying to be human?”

     Cas heaved himself into a sitting position.  “This is… an adjustment to my newly acquired human tendencies.”

     “So, you’re human.”

     “Yes.  No.  It’s complicated,” Cas huffed.  Dean raised his eyebrows in expectation of a better explanation.  “I’ve been eating and sleeping and breathing and other things that humans do, but I don’t have to do them.  It’s like… I instinctually want to but it’s not a necessity.  And I have more human senses now.  Smell, touch, sight… I notice things I’ve never noticed before without trying to.”

     “So are you becoming human?” Dean questioned seriously.

     “I don’t know,” the angel admitted quietly.  “I don’t think I’m falling.  My grace is weakened, but it doesn’t feel cut off from Heaven.  It’s like my angel capabilities have been numbed.  My powers are diminished but not entirely gone.  Does that make sense?”

     Dean simply frowned in thought.

     “There is something wrong with me though.”  Dean’s head swiveled around.  “I don’t believe to be in danger, but I do believe I am ill.”

     “Can angels even get sick?”

     “Not normally, but I’ve been thinking… I never should have made it out of Purgatory.”

     “I agree, but you know what they say: don’t look a gift leviathan in the mouth.”

     “They never say that,” Cas deadpanned.  “Regardless, I think that my escape has had a negative effect on me.  When I was in the portal, I felt like I was being tugged two different ways, like my core wanted to be on Earth and the rest of me back in Purgatory.”

     “So, what, your grace is torn or something?”

     “Maybe.  All I know is that some part of me is damaged and I can absolutely not seek help from Heaven.”

     “I’m with you on this one, Cas.  Please, I’m begging you, whatever happens, do not go to those winged ass-clowns.  We’ll figure this out on our own, okay?  They are the absolute last resort.”

     “I know.  I have no intention of returning, Dean.  There’s no need to tell me.”

     “Good.  Now how about you tell me everything that’s going on and we can start figuring this out, okay?”

     “We should finish the case first.”

     “Cas, no.  You need help and we’re starting this now.”

     “I am in no immediate danger, Dean.”  The hunter looked frustrated but his gaze softened as Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder.  “I would appreciate it if we finished this first.”

     “Fine.  But we deal with this right after, promise?”

     “Promise.”

     Dean sighed.  “Do you have any idea of what it could be?”

     Cas shifted uncomfortably.  “I have a few theories but some of them are worrying and others far-reaching.  For example—”

     “Hey guys,” Sam greeted, letting himself into their room.  “Find anything?”

     “No,” Cas responded, getting up and separating himself from a frustrated Dean.

     “Well, I did.  Get this…”

*             *             *

     “You gotta make it stop,” Mr. Jones pleaded.

     “There might be a way,” Cas claimed regretfully.  “The procedure will be painful, and... when it's over, I'm not sure how much of you will be left.”

     There was a moment of silence.  “Well, what are you waiting for?” the old man asked.

     “Cas!  Wait,” Dean said, putting his hand on Cas’s raised arm.  “This could hurt you really bad.  I mean, you had to take a ten-minute breather after lifting that anvil—”

     “And I’ve been fine ever since,” he argued.  “Dean, this man does not want to hurt people again.  It’s my duty to respect his wish.”

     Dean did not look convinced.

     “You said it yourself: this is true penance.  I promise, as soon as this is over, we will figure out what’s wrong with me.”

     Dean rubbed his face.  “Fine.  Be careful, though.  Please.”

     The angel nodded gravely and placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder.  “I will be as gentle as I can,” he stated, and immediately, he and Fred’s eyes began to emanate light.  A man’s agonized cry began to resound through the room, and at first, Dean thought it was Fred, but the old man looked peaceful, and the hunter realized with a lurch that Castiel’s face was contorted in pain.

     “Cas!” he cried, rushing to the angel’s side, but he did not touch him in fear that he would harm him even further.  He stood there, gasping with shallow breaths as Cas hunched over, hand now gripping Fred Jones’s shirt.  After a moment that seemed like forever in Dean’s mind, the old man vanished and Cas staggered backwards into Dean’s arms, moaning and shivering uncontrollably.

     “Cas?  Hey!” Dean cried.

     “Mr. Jones is fine.  He is back at the nursing home,” Cas groaned.  His body stopped shaking, but he collapsed completely, bringing Dean to the floor with him as the hunter was suddenly burdened with the angel’s entire weight.

     “I’m not worried about him; I’m worried about you!”  He pulled Castiel towards himself, positioning the angel’s head against his own chest.  He tried to ignore how heavy he felt in his arms.

     Cas breathed deeply, looking up at Dean ever so slightly dazedly.  “Much better now,” he croaked.  “But I do believe I know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted wearily.

     “What?” Dean burst out.  Sam looked like he wanted to interject, but decided otherwise, noting Dean’s protective stance.

     “I don’t want to say unless I am sure, Dean.  It is… quite startling.  I would hate to tell you only to be wrong.”

     “Okay… well, how can you be sure?”

     “I need to take a test of sorts,” he answered, smirking for some unknown reason at his own words.  “It will require several items.”

     “Yeah, okay.  We can do that,” Sam reassured, kneeling at their sides.  “What do you need?”

     “I’d rather acquire them myself.  I believe you and Dean would be alarmed by the nature of them.”

     “Well, you’re not zapping anywhere,” Dean said fiercely.  “Wherever you need to go, Sam and I will drive you.”  He scooped his arms under Cas’s arms and legs, lifting him with a grunt.  “Let’s get out of here before the cops show up, okay?”

     “Do you need help?” Sam asked, noting the strain the angel’s weight was putting on Dean.

     “Just bring the car around,” he grunted, tossing his keys to Sam and stumbling from his moment of carrying Castiel one-handed.

     Soon, he managed to get outside, hearing sirens in the distance.  “Crap,” he cursed, positioning Cas as gently as he could in the passenger seat without taking too much time.  Sam clambered into the back, and Dean sped off.

     “So,” the older hunter said once they were a good distance away.  “Where do we have to go?  Some old nun’s tomb?  A vampire’s nest?  Jerusalem?”

     Cas gave him a funny look.  “No,” he replied drily.  “Walgreens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this format is working for everyone. I decided not to write out the full plot of the episode since everyone knows what happens, but I hope it's not too confusing at which parts of the episode these things take place. Let me know if I need to start adding more details from the actual episodes.
> 
> On a different note, what do you think is wrong with Cas?! Please leave comments of any nature. I love you hear from you and I will respond to all (but no spoilers)!


	7. Your Crap is My Crap

     “This good?” Dean asked, pulling up in front of a 24-hour supermarket.

     “Yeah,” the angel mumbled, nearly bolting out of the car.

     “Hey,” Dean stopped him.  “If you’re buying something, you’re gonna need some cash.”  Cas gratefully took the wad of five dollar bills offered to him.  “Are you sure you should be going in alone?  It ain’t gonna be pretty if you pass out in the store and they send you to the hospital where they’ve never seen a freakin’ angel before.”

     “Yeah,” Sam agreed.  “We don’t want anything to happen to you right now.”

     He shook his head.  “Thank you, both of you, but I have to do this myself.”

     “Fine,” Dean grumbled.  “But pick me up some pie while you’re in there.”

     Castiel gave him a confused look, but Dean thought that his boyfriend looked worried more than anything else.  He in turn, was concerned also, and he peered through the window diligently until Cas finally emerged looking even more nervous than before, shopping bag clutched tightly against his torso.

*             *             *

     When they got back to the motel, Cas made a beeline for the door and Dean made a beeline for the pie.  The hunter tried to snatch the oddly lumpy shopping bag from the angel’s hand, but Castiel shocked him with a snarl.  He backed away from Dean, holding the bag as far away as he could, chest and stomach heaving.

     “Dude,” Dean remarked, putting his hands up defensively.  “I was just trying to get my pie.”

     “You’re not allowed to look in there.  I can’t let you,” he insisted as he actually _turned around_ to remove the pie from the bag.  Dean couldn’t believe how shady he was acting.

     “Lighten up.  Whatever this is, we’ll deal with it, okay?”  He reached forward to rub the angel’s hip reassuringly, but Cas backed away frantically, eyes going wide.  The exertion proved to be too much, and the angel keeled over, the weight of his fall denting the side of the motel.  His breaths were quick and uneven and they broke in ragged gasps as he pressed his palms against the paneled wall.

     “Hey, Cas!” Dean grunted.  Sam fumbled with the door.  “Calm down, we’re almost inside!”

     Dean put a gentle hand on Cas’s back, but the angel shied away from the touch, flinching each time Dean tried to reach out.  “Shh,” the hunter hushed, trying not to be personally offended by Cas’s panicked reflexes.  “I’m not going to look.  It’s okay, man.”  Cas relaxed into the touch, but he kept a white-knuckled grip on the plastic bag, and as soon as the door was open, he darted inside the room and veered into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.  Sam and Dean exchanged looks.

     After a moment he peeked his head out.  “I’m sorry for upsetting either of you, but this is a very personal matter.  I would ask that you don’t come for me until I am sure of a diagnosis.”  Without any further explanation, he closed the door once more.  In the silence of the early morning, Dean and Sam heard a slight rustling of the shopping bag.

     Sam turned to look at Dean, forehead crinkled to the extreme.  He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, seemingly having no words to describe Cas’s ridiculous behavior.  They heard a gentle trickling of water and more shuffling beyond the door.

     “Dude.  I know,” Dean remarked for him.  “What the hell, right?”

     “Right,” the taller of the two agreed.  “Do you have any idea what’s up with him?”

     “Not any more than you do,” he bitched.  “What, is he constipated or something?”

     Sam sighed.  “All I know is that Cas looks nervous and that’s never a good thing.”

     “No, it’s not, but I promised him we’d get through it no matter what, and I’m going to stick to that.  I just wish he’d hurry up an’ tell me what’s wrong already so we can just fix whatever damned problem we have.”  Dean’s demeanor suddenly changed from frustrated to skeptical.  “And dude, what’s with the shopping trip?  What could he possibly need in a supermarket?”

     “It’s not completely crazy.  Borax hurt leviathans.  Maybe laundry detergent is an angel pick-me-up or something.”

     They heard a frustrated growl and the clattering of something from the bathroom.

     “Cas, you okay?”  Dean tried.

     “I’ll be fine.  Leave me alone.”  The fan in the bathroom clicked on and drowned out many of the sounds of Cas’s movements.  The shuffling was nearly indistinguishable and the tinkling of water was not much more audible than that.

     Dean rubbed his face and Sam clapped him on the shoulder.  “Just give it a few minutes, Dean.  I’m sure he’ll tell us soon.”

     However, “a few minutes” became ten minutes, then twenty, and then thirty minutes without any acknowledgement from Cas.  Every now and then they were graced with the sounds of a random outburst, but most of the time they could only hear rustling from the other side of the door.  Dean opened his box of pie, delighted to find that it was pecan, but after grabbing a fork and knife, he pushed it aside, for once in his life, not having the appetite as Cas cursed and threw things in the next room.  After forty five minutes, Dean lost whatever was left of his patience.  He stormed towards the locked door and rapped aggressively on it, pie long forgotten on the table.

     “Cas, what’s up?  You coming out anytime soon?”

     Dean was greeted with silence.

     “Cas?” he tried again, a bit more anxiously this time.  “You okay?”

     “Yeah,” the angel responded shortly.  He sounded anything but okay.  Aside from Cas’s quick response, there was no longer any noise from the other side of the door besides the gentle whirring of the fan.

     Dean sighed and turned to Sam.  “What should we do?” he hissed despite thinking that Cas would probably hear him anyways.

     Sam looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Whatever Cas is going through, it seems really personal.  He may not want me here.”

     “What?  How does that make any sense?  I don’t see why he’d have an issue with you and not with me.”

     Sam sighed in exasperation.  “Really?! You’re his _boyfriend_ , Dean, and aside from that, you two have always been closer than him and me.”  He shrugged nonchalantly.  “Look, Cas doesn’t usually have to deal with this human crap.  It’s perfectly normal that he would want to go to you first if something’s wrong.  I mean, we don’t know what the problem with him is, but dude, he was embarrassed about his _wings_ of all things.  If he’s sick, don’t you think he might not want the world to know?  It must be complete mortification for him.”

     “Huh.”  Dean blinked.  “Never thought of it like that.  Okay then, what’s our game plan?  He’s got to spill the beans at some point.”

     “I’ll… go for a walk or something.  Maybe get a bite to eat.  You can talk to Cas, figure out what’s going on, or at least get him out of the bathroom, and then… whatever it is, he can tell me when he’s ready.”

     “You sure?  You don’t mind being out of the loop on this one?” Dean questioned incredulously.

     “Nah.  I trust you guys.  Just call me when you’re ready for me to come back, okay?”

     “Sure thing.  And Sammy?” he called as his brother turned to leave.  “Thanks.”

      Sam grinned.  “You better be thankful, jerk.”

     “Get outta here, you bitch.”  Sam gave one more smirk before exiting the motel room.

     Dean took a deep breath as he stood outside the door, willing himself to be patient as he could with the frightened angel.  Cas seemed to be in some pretty deep crap, so he had to be the one to hold it all together, right?  It was his responsibility.  “Cas?” he called softly in a way he hoped was reassuring.  He allowed a short moment of silence before continuing, “Hey, Sam’s gonna be out for a while so this might be a good time to talk.”

     “Dean?”  Cas’s voice was weak.

     “I’m here for you, man, you just have to trust me.  Listen, whatever this is, Sam doesn’t have to know.”

     “I can’t imagine he would be pleased with that.”

     “He’s okay with it, I promise.  You can even call him if you don’t believe me.”  There was another pause.  “How about you let me in now?”

     “No,” Castiel said sharply, and Dean’s heart sank.  “No,” he repeated, wearily this time, “I’ll come out to you.”

     Dean stepped back from the door as Cas opened it a crack.  He could see that the bathroom floor was littered with small boxes and a variety of cheap-looking objects, but he forced his gaze back to Cas.  It was the angel’s right to explain his illness, and besides, Cas looked absolutely miserable.  Seeing his terrified expression gave Dean flashbacks of the night he had naïvely tried to take him to the brothel.  He had never seen him so scared in his life.

     “Hey, it’s okay,” Dean reassured, reaching outwards, but it was clear Castiel did not want to be touched.  “Come on out; I won’t bite,” he joked lightly.  Castiel’s expression did not change, but he did emerge from the bathroom, closing the door behind him and pulling his trench coat closed to cover his body.

     “Dean…” he choked, shaking his head.  He seemed ready to break down at any moment.

     “Come on,” Dean insisted, beckoning some more.  Cas reluctantly shuffled into his open arms, but his own folded arms acted as a barrier between their bodies, and his wings curled protectively around his torso as well.  He began to quiver, wings instinctively curling more tightly around him and wrapping around his sides and belly.  “No more hiding, Cas,” the hunter murmured firmly but compassionately into the dark head of hair.  “You gotta tell me what this is so we can deal with it.”

     Cas shook his head once more.  “I can’t, Dean.”

     “Why not?  Look man, whatever’s up with you, it’s my burden to bear as well.”

     “No, Dean, I know you don’t want this… You’re not going to want me anymore.”

     “That’s bull, Cas,” he protested, holding him tightly.  “You know what?  We’ve literally been through Hell together.  There isn’t anything I haven’t seen before and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”  Cas looked away, tears still hanging in his eyes, on the verge of breaking down.  “Please, I’m begging you, man, if you don’t let me help you with whatever is pulling you down, then I have no real purpose here, do you understand me?  Your crap is my crap.  That’s how family works.”

     “I don’t want to mess up what I have here with you.  I have no one else, Dean.”

     “Me neither.  All we’ve got is Sam and each other, so I’m not getting rid of you anytime soon, _capiche_?  You don’t need anyone else, Cas.  I will not abandon you,” he vowed.  “Please.  Tell me.”

     Cas shook his head, shoulders slumping.

     “It’s that bad, huh?”  Dean ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip and bracing himself for the worst.

     “No!  I mean I am in no danger.  But it’s a complicated situation that I doubt you will be pleased with.”

     “It’s fine, Cas.  Really.  We can fix it, but you gotta tell me first.”  He forced the angel to make eye contact.

     “I… can’t.  It will be hard for you to comprehend, I’m afraid.”  He hesitated, before turning back towards the bathroom.  Dean was about to either give up or force the answer out of him (he wasn’t quite sure which) but Cas finally stated, “I’ll show you,” with a new resolve.  He opened the door, exposing the mess once more as he picked up one of the curious little objects off the floor.  He closed the door behind him again, fear returning to his eyes as he grasped the object in his large hands and stared at it.  His gaze flicked upwards to Dean and then back to the mysterious object.

     “Dude, really?  What’s with all the suspenseful build up?  Just show me.”  The angel breathed in deeply and nodded, finally extending the object outwards for Dean to see.  He began to shake again, and there was a new light of terror in his eyes.

     Dean snatched the object from his quivering fingers and brought it close enough to his face to read.  He stared at it numbly for a moment before the implications of what he was holding really hit him.

     “Cas,” he breathed.  “Is this what I think it is?”  The angel nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around his body defensively as Dean brought the object even closer to his face and examined it closely.

     “You’re joking,” he whispered, looking up to find the angel on the verge of tears.  “Crap.  You’re not joking.”

     It was Dean Winchester’s turn to be scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it worth asking you to guess? Not really a cliffhanger if you read the tags, but I take pride in the fact I was able to drag it out so long ^_^  
> Please comment! I could really use some more feedback! :)


	8. Our Little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've dragged this out so long, I couldn't keep you waiting any longer.

     “Is—is this really happening?” Dean stuttered.

     Cas covered his face and let out a muffled, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

     “Damn it… Cas…” he swiped his hand over his face and looked down at the object again.  It was a small, oblong piece of white plastic with a little pink plus.  Dean had never seen one in person before, but he wasn’t stupid; he knew it was a pregnancy test.  A _positive_ pregnancy test.  “So let me get this straight: there is a literal physical baby inside you right now.”

     “Yes.”

      He ran a hand through his hair nervously.  “Do you know what this means?”

     “It means I am carrying a child,” Cas said dully, taking Dean’s question literally.

     “Okay,” huffed Dean, trying desperately not to hyperventilate as he really noticed the strain in Cas’s buttons for the first time.  “Okay, so you’re angel pregnant.  Dude, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re male.  This can’t happen.”  He began to pace frantically.

     “My vessel is male,” he corrected.  “I am, strictly speaking, a genderless being.”

     “Yeah?  Well, there’s still a problem with your vessel’s anatomy.  Men can’t have kids, Cas!  There’s nowhere for the bugger to grow, to come out…” he winced at the thought.  “Why didn’t you warn me this could happen?”

     “I didn’t think of it!” he angel cried, throwing his hands in the air, and Dean was taken aback by the outburst.  “Humans and angels have not procreated freely for centuries!  Every now and then, a Nephilim has been born, but it’s forbidden!  We don’t hear about it and we don’t think about it!  Ever!”

     “Well, now we have to deal with this, Cas!  We gotta do something fast!”

     “No… No, Dean, please do not make me get rid of our child.  I swear I would not ask it of you.”  His wings arched and for the first time, he put a hand directly to his belly as a clear sign of protection.

     The hunter took a step back.  “Get rid of?  No, I wouldn’t—crap, Cas, that’s not what I meant!”

     “Then what?” he asked in his gravelly voice.

     “I mean we gotta figure out how you’re gonna freakin’ carry the kid to term.  We gotta make sure you both survive!”

     Cas’s eyes glinted.  “Make sure we… survive?”  He cocked his head.  “Dean, that is not a burden for either of us to bear,” he corrected, finally realizing there had been a misunderstanding.  “My grace is fully capable of dealing with this.  It will make adjustments to my body as needed, which is why I have not been up to full strength.  I told you; I am in no danger.”

     “Really?”

     “Really.”

     “Oh, thank God.”  He pulled Castiel close to his chest and breathed deeply into his shoulder.  After a moment, he began to laugh.

     “You seem… less than upset about this,” Cas noted.

     “Yeah?  Well, now that I’m not worried about you keeling over anytime soon, I guess I can celebrate us having a little rugrat of our own.”

     “You’re happy?” Cas exclaimed.  “I thought you’d be angry, sad, scared; anything but this.”

     “Oh I’m freakin’ terrified,” Dean conceded.  “But, crap, I always wanted my own family, Cas, I just never thought I’d get one.  I mean, I thought I was a father once, and damn, I was so disappointed that he wasn’t my son.”

     “You are okay with being a father.  You _want_ to be a father.”

     Dean’s green eyes sparkled.  “Yeah.  We can do this.  I have this feeling in my gut that for all this trouble, it’ll be worth it, you know?  You… you want this, too, right?”

     “It was an unexpected twist, but I would not change this situation given the chance.”

     “Same here.”  Dean bit his lip for a moment, drawing in Cas’s figure with his eyes.  Impulsively , he spurted, “Can I touch it?”

     Cas looked at him with the upmost confusion.  “Touch what?”

     “The baby.  Well, not the baby, the bump.  If you have one.”

     “You wish to make contact my abdomen in hopes of its possible distension assuring you of our child’s existence.”

     Dean tried to give the angel a withering look but it was lost in his toothy grin.  “Let’s just go with I want to say ‘hello.’”

       “I am not entirely sure how to do this,” he admitted, but Dean took over for him, kneeling at his feet to untuck his shirt.  Cas started to neatly undo the buttons, but Dean impatiently ripped them open after yanking off his tie and draping it over a nearby chair.  He stared eagerly and took a breath before finally pulling the open shirt apart and exposing Cas’s torso.

     He was thrilled to find that Castiel’s abdomen was considerably rounded.  “Dude, you’re freakin’ huge!  At least in comparison to normal!  How in the world did I miss this?” he exclaimed as he examined the curvature of Cas’s midsection, a drastic difference from the well-muscled exterior he was used to.  “What are you?  Only… three months, right?”  He caressed the bump reverently.

     “A little under that.  I am failing to see the excitement in my new shape, however.”  Dean pulled the coat and shirt off Cas’s body and admired the bump once more.

     “Here,” Dean commanded, placing Cas’s hands on either side of the bulge.  He put his own hands in the center of Cas’s stomach.  “That’s our kid, Castiel,” he breathed.  Cas nodded in appreciation.  “Can you believe it?  Us?  Parents?”  His eyes widened for a moment as he thought of something.  “Crap, we’re both dudes… I get to be ‘Dad,’” he proclaimed.  Cas’s brow furrowed but he made no objection.

     Dean brought his hands to the top of the swell in Castiel’s belly and ran them down, feeling every inch of the surprisingly pronounced curve.  He then realized how much it was restricted by Cas’s ill-fitting pants, and he released the bump fully by unbuttoning them.  He gently kissed the angry red mark it left behind.  “This is why you bought new clothes,” he murmured.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

     “I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening.  I didn’t want to concern you for no reason.”

     “Never worry about that, Cas.  You’re always worth it.”

     Cas was absolutely glowing at his words.  Dean finally came to his feet, fingers still brushing against Cas’s rounded tummy.  After a moment, he pulled Cas close to him and appreciated the sensation of the bump pressed warmly against his own flat midsection.  They rested their foreheads together and stood there, breathing deeply, for quite some time.

     “I love you,” Dean rasped when he finally worked up the nerve.  It wasn’t loud, but it was sincere.

     “ _Olani hoath ol_ ,” came the angelic response.  Cas did not bother to translate to English, but Dean understood perfectly what the Enochian words meant.

     “Dude.  You gotta teach me how to do that.”

     “I don’t see why not,” he responded with a quick appreciative smile.  He then looked down and rubbed his belly, wearing a slight frown of concentration.  “Dean… I am unsure of the human customs involving pregnancy.  Do we inform Sam of this development?”

     “I don’t know.  It’s kind of a different situation for us.  Most pregnant people are women, not male angels.”

     Cas’s eyes narrowed as he remarked, “I supposed we must ask ourselves what is truly normal in this situation.”

     “Listen, pretty much all I know about this stuff comes from TV, but from what I’ve seen, women usually wait a few months to tell their friends.”

     “Why would they do that?  I wish to share this gift with the world.”

     “I dunno.  It’s supposed to be in case of miscarriage or something like that.  But then again, they’re not angels.”

     “Still,” Cas considered, “there’s no reason we couldn’t hold up that tradition.  It isn’t necessary for Sam to know right now.  Is that what you want?”

     “Part of me wants to call Sam up and tell him everything right now.”  He sighed.  “But the smarter and less impulsive part of me says that we should maybe let this all sink in before we start telling other people, you know?”

     “I think I do,” Cas responded warmly, rounded tummy still cradled in his hands.  “I’m somewhat fond of the idea: our little secret.”

     Dean scoffed, “It can’t be a secret much longer.  You’re already so big.”

      “I don’t even care,” the angel admitted.  “I’m just relieved that you’re not upset.”

     “It’s your well-being that scares me the most, but if you say you’re okay, then I believe you.  I mean, there’s other stuff too, like the fact our lives are scary and shitty, but I don’t really care anymore.  Just the thought of having a kid, it’s too amazing to not like the idea.  You know what I mean?”

     “I think I do.  The prospect of having a baby is pleasing.  Everything else is just a detail that we will deal with in time.”

     “Yeah, like the fact that we have to take you out shopping soon without letting Sam know.”  Cas gave him a questioning look.  “Dude, the buttons are gonna pop off this thing pretty soon,” he pointed out, holding up the discarded shirt that he had draped on his shoulder.  “Is this even any bigger than Jimmy’s original?”

     Cas shrugged.  “I wasn’t exactly sure what to do and the employees kept giving me weird looks.  I just wanted to get out of there.”  His face became serious.  “Was I supposed to inform them that the child growing within me has expanded my abdomen and therefore caused me to require larger clothing?”

     “Sure, if you want them to call security or send you to the mental ward.”

     Dean snuck another glance to Cas’s midsection.  “If you wish to make contact again, I don’t mind.  Babies are truly miracles that deserve to be celebrated.”  Cas did not need to ask twice.  In an instant, Dean’s hand was pressed against the swell of his belly again.  Cas arched his back, leaning into the touch, and Dean kissed him in response.

     After they separated, Cas asked, “Should we call Sam back now?  I feel that it is unfair to make him leave on our behalf.”

     Dean sighed in disappointment.  “Yeah, I guess we should.  Dude’s been a trooper.”  He retrieved Cas’s clothing and assisted him in donning it, feeling guilty as the pinch of the waistband made his boyfriend grimace.  He rubbed the distended tummy sympathetically and promised, “We’ll get you some new garb soon,” before retrieving his cell phone and selecting Sam’s number.

     “Hey, Sammy!” he greeted a little too enthusiastically.  He coughed gruffly, trying not to sound so cheery and said, “Um, you can come back now.  Everything’s good on this end.  Well, not good,” he corrected, glancing at Cas with a smile that said otherwise, “but settled.”  There was a pause as Sam responded on the other end.  “Yeah.  Thanks.  See you in a few.”

     “What do we do?” Cas asked as Dean slipped the phone back into his pocket.

     “Just play it cool.  We’ll tell him it’s a private thing, but we’re sure you’re gonna be okay and he shouldn’t worry about it.  Just follow my lead and let me do the talking if you don’t know what to say.  Okay?”

    “Yeah.  When is he coming back?”

     “Any minute,” Dean responded.  “He decided to stay close in case we needed him.”  Right on cue, the door handle jiggled.  Cas looked frightened all over again.  “Hey,” Dean soothed, brushing his hand over the bump not-so-subtly, “the hard part’s over.  If you let it slip, no big deal, okay?”  He patted his belly and drew away as Sam came in looking slightly stressed and out of breath.

     “Cas,” he huffed, relieved to see him out of the bathroom.  “You okay, man?”

     “Yes,” he grunted simply, but not without appreciation.

     “Hey, if you want to tell me what’s going on, I’m all ears,” he offered, “but it’s okay if you don’t.”

     “It’s a little personal,” Dean stepped in, and Cas looked relieved to be out of the hot seat, “but he’s gonna be fine.  I swear there’s nothing to worry about.”

     “Anything I should know?  For safety’s sake?”  he worried.

     “Not much.  Just that Cas isn’t feeling too touchy-feely right now and he’s gotta be careful not to overexert himself.”

     “Dean,” Cas objected.

     “Not an argument, Cas,” Dean insisted, turning to look at him.  “It doesn’t just affect you.”

     Cas’s gaze softened.  “I will not enter combat with you, but I do insist on accompanying you, especially on your important cases.”

     Dean considered it.  “Sounds doable.  We’ll talk on a case-to-case basis.”

     Sam coughed.  “Okay, uh… I have no clue what’s going on, so I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and pretend I’m not hearing anything.”

     They let him walk towards the door until Dean realized their mistake and called out, “Sam, wait!”

     “What now?” Sam asked as Dean caught up to him.

     “Uh, Cas still has some stuff in there, so give us a few minutes to clean things up, okay?”

     “Okay,” Sam said unsurely as Cas paled with the realization that he had left multitudes of pregnancy tests scattered on the bathroom floor.

     “Oops,” he grunted as Dean pulled him into the tiny room and shut the door behind them.  Dean immediately started laughing against the door and it didn’t take long for Cas to follow.

     Sam listened from the other side, wishing he was in on the big secret.  Still, it was hard to be jealous as their happiness brightened the whole room.  He respected their privacy; he only hoped that whatever was causing their joy would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YaY bAbIeS mPrEg CaS mAkEs Me HaPpY


	9. A Ripple of Strange Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long! I've been bogged down with schoolwork! :(

     Cas was startled as Dean stormed into Rufus’s cabin, slamming the door behind him and pulling at his hair once he got inside.  Dean stood very still for a moment, having another outburst a second later as he shouted in frustration and kicked over a small table.  He pulled at his hair once more, breathing heavily as he tried to cool himself down from his rage.  “’m sorry,” he murmured.

     Cas was lying on a dingy leather couch with a worn book at his side and a hand gently rested across his ever expanding belly.  He blinked slowly at Dean and prodded in a soft tone, “I take that your trip to see Sam did not go as you hoped it would.”

     “No,” he grumbled, hanging his jacket by the door and pulling off his boots without bothering to unknot the laces.  “Cas, man,” he continued, leaning against the wall and swiping a hand across his face, “it’s just a mess.”  He slid over to the fridge in his socked feet and pulled out a bottle of beer.  He looked at it for a moment, stole a glance at Cas, and then exchanged it for two sodas.  He tossed one to the angel who fumbled it, but ultimately caught the canned beverage in his free hand.

     “I don’t like it when you are at odds.  Was he at least apologetic about endangering Benny?”

     “Not at all.  He was pissed that I did anything to save him.”

     “I’m sorry, Dean.  I tried to vouch for him, but Sam—”

     “It’s not your fault.  Sam just hears what he wants to hear, man.”  Dean moseyed to the couch, sipping his soda idly.

     “He’ll come around,” Cas assured him, attempting to sit up to make room.  However, his growing midsection obstructed his movements and he flopped backwards in defeat, eliciting the smallest chuckle from Dean, who came to his rescue after appreciating the scene for a few moments.  After being helped up, Cas merely gave Dean a steely look, trying to regain some of his dignity.  That attempt was also lost as Dean put a hand tenderly to the bump and Cas melted into the touch.

     “As much as I enjoy these moments between us, I am anxious for Sam’s return.  You two deserve to be happy… and not be fighting with each other.”

     “Cas,” Dean sighed, “I don’t know if he’s coming back.  There’s this girl, and—y’know?  It might be the end of the line, buddy.”

     Cas’s feathers ruffled but his expression was relaxed.  “Sam will come back.  He always does.  Trust me.”

     Dean scoffed.  “You’re not asking me to trust you, Cas.  You’re asking me to trust Sam,” he grumbled, putting a twist on his brother’s earlier words.

     “He’ll be back,” Cas insisted.  He looked like he was on the brink of saying something else, but he took a gulp of soda instead.

     Dean raised a brow.  “Have something to say?”

     “I wasn’t sure if it was the appropriate time to bring this up, but…” he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his trench coat.  “I found this at the door earlier.  It’s a note.”

     “What the hell?”  Dean skimmed the page.  “Who is this from?”

     “I have no clue.  There’s no signature, I don’t recognize the handwriting, and it’s very brief.  Maybe you can figure it out.”

     “‘Dean Winchester and Castiel,’” the hunter read, purposely leaving out Sam’s name, “‘The angel Samandriel is alive, but he is being held captive by Crowley and his demons in the general vicinity of Hastings, Nebraska.  Find him and release him from Crowley’s hold.’  Wait, are they talking about Alfie?  Who the hell is this?”

     “I take it you are not aware of the sender’s identity.”

     “Nah.  Look at this,” he said, holding up the neatly written note.  “This isn’t some hunter’s scrawl.  Plus, they’ve got too much information.  It’s got to be either a demon or an angel.”

     “But Crowley’s the one who has taken Samandriel.  What do you think, rogue demon?” Cas reasoned.

     “Maybe, but there’s a lack of motive there.  I’m guessing this is one of your winged buddies.”

     Cas put on a slight scowl, but he still helpfully pointed out, “That note is very short but concise.  Orderly.  Someone took the time to give us the right info without revealing too much.  I agree this is likely one of my brothers or sisters.”

     “Yeah, I’m with you on this.  This just screams angel.  But we still don’t know how to find him.  ‘In the general vicinity of Hastings, Nebraska’ isn’t terribly specific.”

     “We can look for signs,” Cas informed him.  “Bring me your laptop.”  Dean did so, and Cas opened it up, blinking confusedly at the open internet browser.  “Babynames.com?”

     Dean flushed bright red.  “Give me that!”  He stole the laptop back and hastily opened a google search.  “What are we looking for?”

      “Apparently you are looking for baby names,” he deadpanned, but could not hold back the small smile that came a second later.  He returned his focus to their research.  “Look for bizarre events.  An angel in pain can let out a ripple of strange effects.”

     “So what should I search for?  Weird deaths in the area?”

     “No, nothing like that.  Something like… a small miracle.  An inexplicable occurrence.”

     “What about this?  Check it out, some guy got sunburned to lobster status by a _burning bush._ ”  Dean raised his eyebrows and asked, “Sounds pretty biblical, right?”

     “Yes,” Cas affirmed, skimming the screen.  “Let’s pay this man a visit and get more details.”

     “Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, buddy.  I was thinking, maybe you should sit this one out,” he suggested carefully.

     “And leave you to take this case alone?  I don’t think so, Dean.”  The angel rose to his feet (successfully) and readjusted his trench coat.

     Dean came up beside him, rubbing his face.  “Dude, you’ve got a bun in the oven.  You can’t do this.”

     “This is too important to ‘sit out’ on.  I’ll be fine.  I’m well-rested; I’m up for this.  I think I can handle an interrogation at the least.”

     “Cas, I said no.”

     Cas got into Dean’s face, causing the hunter to swallow quite loudly at their close proximity.  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t join you.  Just one.”

     “You’re pregnant!”

     “As you’ve already said.  I fail to see the issue here.”

     Dean huffed, searching for a reasonable response.  “Because… people will freak out if they see a pregnant guy walking around.”

     “I’m aware that I’ve put on weight, but even Sam hasn’t figured it out yet, and he sees me nearly every day.  If you were a stranger, would you honestly assume I’m pregnant?”

     “No,” Dean grumbled.  “Ok, here’s a reason—”

     “I’m coming, Dean,” the angel insisted, opening the front door and tossing Dean his boots.  “Are you?”

     “Goddamnit, Cas.”  He pulled the boots up and followed his angel out to the car, rolling his eyes and muttering the whole way.

*             *             *

     “Just so you know, I am so not cool with this,” Dean informed Cas, pulling open the door to Garth’s boathouse.

     “I am well aware,” the angel responded smugly, leading the way into the dingy place.

     “Whoa,” Dean breathed, noting the many papers that plastered the walls.  “Slow read?” he asked Kevin.

     “Slowest,” the prophet responded drily.

     “Is Garth here?”

     “No,” he said shortly.  “Look guys, I’m in the middle of this—”

     “You look horrible,” Cas stated.

     Dean’s expression softened.  “He’s right.  Are you feeling okay?”

     “I’m working.”

     “That doesn’t answer the question.”

     “No,” the young man snapped.  “I feel awful, and it doesn’t help that I’m not making any progress.”

     “Then take a break,” Dean reasoned as Kevin rolled his eyes and buried his head in his work once more.  “Look man, I’m serious, you’re overworking yourself and you’re gonna burn out if you’re not careful.  Look, we need to make some demon bombs anyways, so it’ll at least take a productive rest.”

     “You used it all?!”

     “Yeah,” Dean said.  “So let’s whip up another batch so we can get this show on the road, okay?”

     “No, not okay,” the prophet told him.  “Not unless you can get us some West Bank witch hazel, skull of Egyptian calf, the tail of some random-ass newt that may or may not be extinct—”

     “Okay.  Sorry.  I get it; the ingredients are hard to come by.”

     “That’s just the first three!”

     “Give me a list; I can get them,” Castiel interjected.  Kevin rolled his eyes again and started scribbling on a spare piece of paper.

     “Cas, no,” Dean growled.  “I let you come along for the questioning and the stakeout and everything, but I can’t let you do this.  You’re not strong enough.”

     “Yes I am,” the angel protested.  Kevin glanced up curiously, but continued making the list without a peep.  “I feel better than I have in weeks.  Trust me enough to make a few short flights, please.”

     Dean pulled his boyfriend out of Kevin’s hearing range.  “Listen, if either one of you gets hurt—”

     “We won’t.  Flight takes up less of my grace than you would expect.  The child will be fine, and the exercise may even benefit him or her.  Let me do this.”

     Dean gave a curt nod and Cas pulled away from his grasp, taking the list from Kevin and disappearing with a rustle.

     “What’s up with you two?” Kevin asked.  “Is he okay?”

     “We’re fine,” Dean grumbled, sounding anything but that.  “He’s just not one hundred percent right now, and he says he’s feeling better, but I don’t think he’s up for it, man.  Not like this,” he ranted.

      Kevin merely stared for a moment.  “Whatever,” he said, slipping on a pair of earphones and continuing his work as Dean began to nervously pace the floor.

     “Cas, man, come on!  How long does it take to get a calf skull from Egypt?”

*             *             *

     Ten minutes and one phone call from Benny later, Dean was starting to get really nervous.  It took all his restraint not to grab Cas in his arms and never let him go when the angel finally returned saying, “I got what we need.”

     “Well it’s about—” Dean’s face twisted into an annoyed half-pout, as he spotted his brother right behind his boyfriend.  “What’s he doing here?”

     “Don’t worry Dean; once we save Alfie, I’m out.”

     “Oh, once _we_ save Alfie?  Don’t hurt yourself, Sam.  Cas and I can handle it.”

     “Not according to Cas.”

     Dean put on an accusatory scowl.  “I told you we didn’t need him.”

     “I’m aware of that Dean,” the angel shot back.  “You also told me that you don’t want me on this mission and it’s clear to me that you barely trust me to walk two feet on my own!”

     “Dude, it’s not like that.  Of course I want you with me; I just can’t let anything happen to you right now.  Got it?”

     “That’s the point, Dean.  It’s a fair compromise; Sam takes on the case with us and … I’ll be able to stay out of more trouble,” he sighed.

     “You need me,” Sam insisted.  “If you’re being all crazy possessive on Cas now, then—”

     “Shut up, Sam!” Dean hollered.  He turned back to Cas and affirmed, “You mean it?  He joins us, but you’ll take a back seat?”

     “You have my word.  If you can put aside your differences with Sam, I will only join you when a majority of the threats have been neutralized.”

     Dean scowled.  “I still don’t like it.”

     “We’re not asking you to like it,” Sam told him.  “All we’re asking is that you tolerate it.  Okay?”

     Dean paused, hoping some miraculous alternative would appear from thin air.  “Yeah, fine,” he huffed, shouldering past Sam and out the door for a breath of fresh air.

*             *             *

     The three men in the Impala scouted Crowley’s hideout and made last minute preparations for their attack.  Cas squinted into the darkness.  “There are four main points of warding—north, south, east, and west—and four Enochian symbols, like this that you need to destroy before I can enter,”  he informed them as he beckoned for Sam’s hand.  He drew a sigil on the hunter’s rough palm.

     “Okay, so, what?” Dean asked.  “We go in, take care of the hell mooks, and you extract the angel?

     “Yes,” said the angel.  “I’ll be in and out quickly, just as I promised.”

     “Sounds like a plan,” Sam agreed.

     “Okay,” Dean uttered, drawing Ruby’s knife. “Let's do this.”

     “Wait. Here.”  Cas handed his angel blade to Sam saying, “This doesn't just work on angels. It kills demons, too,” even though the brothers were well aware of the fact.

      Sam looked grateful, but he asked, “Are you sure about this, Cas?  Should you be giving this to me?”

     “Absolutely not,” Dean protested, looking sheepish a moment later.  “I mean, I want Sam to be able to defend himself, but you need to be able to do that too, and you’re definitely not up to smiting.”

     “It’s okay, Dean.  I, um, have a spare,” he admitted, drawing another from his coat.  “I’ve accumulated a few over the years, not that I am proud of it.”  A guilty silence hung over the three of them.

     “Thanks, Cas,” Sam said softly.  Dean was quiet, but he expressed the same sentiment by clapping Cas’s shoulder.

     The older hunter took a moment to gaze into Cas’s eyes, his own a mixture of guilt and worry.  “Cas… just be careful, okay?”

     Cas offered a half smile.  He stroked Dean’s cheek and stepped backwards into a deep shadow, angel blade glinting ever so slightly in the unnaturally black night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the new chapter :) The next one will be action-packed and overly dramatic to make up for the domesticity and suppressed mangst in this one. Keep an eye out for it because I hope to update soon! :3
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW! IT MAKES CAS AND HIS BABY HAPPY! :3


	10. A Million Miles Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this because I finished it faster than expected, but I have no patience whatsoever.

     Dean hastily sprayed over the last angel-proof sigil, Alfie’s screams setting him on edge and causing him to clench his jaw.  He twitched his fingers as he waited for the familiar sound of flapping wings that signified Cas’s presence, but they never came.

     “Cas?”  He looked around and Sam did the same.  Dean silently cursed to himself, wishing that the angel would appear so they could finally get out.  The hunter didn’t like the idea of Castiel being anywhere near this place whether the angel thought he was battle-ready or not.  Dean couldn’t help but think that he would be wary even if Cas wasn’t pregnant.

     “Where is he?” Sam asked.  “Did we miss a sigil?”  The taller hunter examined the crude drawing on his hand as Dean scanned the area once more.  Logically, his mind told him that he should be relieved that Cas decided not to show up, but he had a feeling deep down that something was wrong.

     He swiveled around as there was a sudden movement behind him, letting out a breath as he realized it was the aforementioned angel.  However, just a moment later, he noticed that Castiel looked not well at all.  The angel was breathing heavily and a thin sheet of sweat gleamed on his greenish-tinged skin.  The angel blade in his hand quivered along with his trembling limbs.  As he took a step toward them, he wobbled uneasily, and Dean immediately knew that whatever was happening to the angel was as bad, if not worse, than what had caused his poor condition after his return from Purgatory.

     “Cas! Hey! You okay?” Sam asked, brow furrowed in concern.  Dean spluttered incoherently, desperately dabbing Cas’s forehead in the absence of words.

     “The sigils?” the angel gasped.  “I’m not at full power.”

     Sam protested, “No, it couldn’t be.  We destroyed all of them.”

     “You’re right,” Cas conceded, rubbing his own temple.  “It must be… Someone’s trying to control me.  I can’t explain how, but they’re… tugging at my consciousness.  Filling my mind with strange thoughts.”

     Dean’s eyes widened.  “That’s it.  No more.  We’re getting you out of here before anything bad happens.  Sam, you’re gonna have to take this alone.  We’re leaving!”

     “No, wait! There’s no time. Samandriel won’t last much longer,” Cas pleaded.

     “Are you joking?” Dean growled as Sam reluctantly moved away to pry the lock open.  “This is not what we agreed to, Cas!  Especially if we have to have a showdown with Crowley!  This is a trap, plain and simple!”

     “Exactly, Dean!  You need me,” he stated, not quite agreeing with his own words as he retched painfully and his head reeled.  “This is way more than we bargained for, and Sam needs us here.  Both of us!  Even in this state, I have meaningful powers—”

     “Yeah? Well you’re worth a whole lot more to me alive than dead.  So we lose this battle.  That’s a price I’m willing to pay, man,” he implored.

     “You say that now,” the angel retorted sternly, “but I don’t think you truly realize the cost of letting Crowley take Samandriel.”  Castiel’s knees may have been weak, but his voice was strong with resolve.  “Not only is it morally reprehensible, but—”

     “A little help here, Dean?” Sam grunted, continuing to slam his body against the heavy door.  However, Dean’s assistance was apparently not needed, as Sam successfully broke in a moment later.  Dean looked around, immediately assessing that Crowley had gone and the nervous-looking demon remaining was a low threat.  He felt only slightly relieved at this revelation and it was still with much reluctance that he guided a trembling Castiel through the door.  Cas pulled his arm away from Dean’s supporting grasp, resenting his insistence to help.

     Crowley’s minion, a strange looking man in garb similar to a mad scientist’s, lunged for a sharp knife on a table of surgical-looking tools and swiped at Dean clumsily as Sam surged forwards and Cas staggered towards Samandriel.  Dean ultimately dodged the attack, but he was pressed against a wall seconds later, knife to his throat.  Sam tried to come to his aid, but another demon rushed into the room and engaged Sam in a brawl.  Dean was thrown backwards into a glass pane but as the shards dropped off his back, his only thoughts were, _Cas.  I have to get Cas out of here now._

     He overtook his attacker quickly, dropping him to the ground in a series of instinctively accurate kicks and blows.  At the same time, he was hyper-aware of Cas’s movements in the corner of his eye.  As the demon fell, Dean snuck a glance, noting that Castiel had just removed the last spike from the contraption encasing Alfie’s head.  “Cas!  Get yourself out of here!” Dean bellowed, and both angels instantly disappeared.  Dean leapt forwards, impaling Sam’s attacker on Ruby’s knife before returning to his own.  He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders now that Cas was safe from harm, but there was still an anxious itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t place.

     “Wait!” the cowardly demon cried.  “I know— I know things.  There’s so much you don’t know. You need me.”

     Dean nodded, trying to concentrate.  All logic told him that the demon was right, that he should get as much information as he could, but for some reason his mind kept screaming, _Get to Cas!  Protect Cas!_   He rubbed his face, trying to clear his restless mind.  “Yeah.”  The demon looked hopeful.  “Sorry, but I don’t have the time.”  With that, he stabbed the whining scum, completely absent of regret as a warm light flared from within the demon’s skull.

     “Dean!” exclaimed Sam.  “What the hell, man?  We needed that intell!”

     Dean whirled around, crackling with nerves.  “Dude, I can’t explain it, but I have a really bad feeling.  We have to get to Cas.  Now.”

     Sam opened his mouth to protest, but his face turned sympathetic, and he nodded curtly instead, allowing Dean to be the first to rush out the door.  The boys dashed through the darkened factory, reversing the path they had taken to enter it.  It was strange, Sam decided, to be running _away_ after a successful rescue, but then again, they were technically rushing to _another_ rescue if he thought about it that way.  Still, as much as Sam trusted Dean’s knowledge as a hunter, his older brother’s judgment had had a few lapses recently and as of late, he had been protective of Cas to an unusual amount.  Sam seriously doubted that they had anything to worry about, that Dean was just overreacting, but seeing the alarmed look on Dean’s face had simply not allowed him to be idle as the older hunter panicked.

     The Winchester brothers burst through the outer door of the factory, Dean feeling immense relief as they spotted Cas and Alfie, but they did not slow their pace.  Cas was keeping a strong grip on the younger looking angel even though he himself still looked on the brink of total collapse.

     “What the hell, Cas?” Dean cried as he rushed up to him.  He shamelessly hugged Cas as much as he could with Samandriel clinging onto the trench coat.  “Are you okay?”

     “I’m fine,” the angel snapped with injured pride, nudging Dean away.  “It’s Samandriel who needs our care right now.  Don’t worry,” he addressed his wounded brother.  “I know they did awful things to you, but you’re safe now.  Let us tend to you at the very least before you return to Heaven.”

     “No, Castiel!” Alfie wept.  “Please!  I can’t go back there!”

     “What?  Why not?” he questioned incredulously.

      “You don’t understand,” he blubbered.  “I told Crowley things—things he shouldn’t have known.  He got to our coding, our secrets—secrets I didn’t even know we had!”

     “What secrets?” Cas demanded.  Sam was impressed at how authoritative yet compassionate Cas managed to sound, but Dean could not shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

     “Heaven.  Naomi,” Samandriel started, but Cas cut him off.

     “Naomi?  Who is that?  I’ve never heard that name before.”

     “Never heard—? Listen to me.  Listen to me closely.  I’ve been there.  I know!  They’re controlling us, Castiel!”  His brow furrowed as he looked at Cas more closely.  “Your wings are showing.  And your grace is so… Are you…?” he shuttered in a deep breath, glancing at the taller angel’s midsection and Dean himself was struggling to stay calm at how easily Alfie had deduced Cas’s condition.  “Castiel, she can’t know.  If she finds out—”

     “What do you mean?” the dark haired angel asked fearfully, subtly brushing his fingers across his belly, but he never got an answer.  Samandriel began to convulse, and it wasn’t until his eyes had rolled back into his head that the brothers and Castiel noticed fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

     “Son of a—What the hell?” Dean cursed as the deceased angel slumped to the ground and his body disappeared a moment later, leaving an ominous pool of dark blood on the street.  “Cas,” he ordered frantically, “get behind me. Now.”  But Cas, back turned towards the brothers, was preoccupied.  The angel let out a shallow huff of air and brought a hand to his face.  “Cas?” Dean tried again.

     The angel turned slowly to the brothers and Dean’s heart leapt in his throat as Cas’s face was revealed, smudged with red by the thin cut on his cheek that had blossomed from thin air.  Sam stiffened beside him, and Dean himself completely froze.  “Cas,” he hissed with more urgency.  Cas took a step forwards only to be stopped as a deep gash tore through his shoulder, causing him to cry out in a feral howl of pain as he grasped at the wound wildly and almost buckled at the knees.  “Cas, no!” Dean hollered, finally willing his muscles to move.  He lunged forwards to his wounded lover, leaping with abandon, his only thoughts to grasp onto Cas at any cost as the expecting angel swayed, blood seeping down the front of his crumpled white shirt.  Dean scrunched his eyes shut in anticipation of colliding with him, but he never did.  The hunter took a dive onto the ground instead, smashing into the rough pavement and screaming in vain.  Cas was gone.  Taken.

     “No!” he roared.  “No!  You freakin’ son of a bitch!  Bring him—Castiel!  Cas!  Bring him back!  Oh God, no.  No, not now—not… Cas! _Cas!_ ”  He pounded at the ground, gravel sinking into his new wounds and causing searing pain.  He purposely raked his fists into the road again, madly hoping that the rocks embedded in his tender flesh would somehow ease the stinging of his eyes or the throbbing in his throat.  “Cas!” he croaked, hauling himself to his feet and barreling around the corner of the Impala, willing with every fiber of his being that Cas would be on the other side.  Finding nothing, he skidded around to the other side again, praying his eyes were playing tricks on him.  “No.  No!” he howled, collapsing onto the hood.  His limbs were suddenly weak and his head light and spinning.  “Bring him back.  Bring him back to me,” he panted, but his words were practically inaudible as he slid down the front of the car to crumple to the earth, shoulders heaving as he struggled to catch a breath that simply would not fill his lungs.  Stars filled his vision as Sam called out to him in a voice that seemed a million miles away.

     “Dean!”  Sam dropped to the ground right in front of him and Dean fell uselessly into his arms, clawing at his shirt and soaking it with the first tears he had shed in years.  Sam put a hand comfortingly to his back, alarmed at the shallowness of his brother’s breaths and the trembling of his shoulders.  “Dean,” he reassured, pulling him in tight.  “It’s okay.  Breathe.”

     “It’s not—‘snot okay,” he wheezed.

     “Sorry, no, I know it’s not.  But… I know you love him and we’re not going to quit until we find a way of getting him back to us.  We _will_ get him back, Dean.”

    “Sammy, I don’t know how long he can—this is serious; he’s in more danger than you could even…”  Dean hung his head and wept bitterly, trying fruitlessly to dry his eyes.

     “I know.  I know.  But he’s stronger than you think, Dean.  And we’re gonna get him back,” Sam promised.

     “No, shit Sam, it’s different this time,” he protested, terror seeping down to his bones once more.  “Cas…  he’s… he’s… Oh God, this can’t happen.”

     Sam sighed, clapping his hand on Dean’s shoulder, at an utter loss of what to do.  He rose to his feet and walked around to the trunk, uttering a silent prayer to anyone who would listen, cutting himself off in the middle and thinking perhaps that was not the best idea without knowing exactly who had taken Cas.  Instead, he returned to Dean’s side with two beer bottles in his large hands.  He passed one to Dean and opened his own, nearly spilling it as Dean let out a despaired snarl and hurled the bottle across the lot, feeling even more hopeless as it exploded into a spray of foam and shards of glass.

      Sighing with his own bottle at his lips, Sam set down the drink at his side and pulled Dean into his chest knowing that no amount of kindness or support could even begin to make things better until Cas was safe and sound.  But he would try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck. I'm evil. I know. Comment anyways, please. "Sympathy for the Devil" and whatnot.


	11. Finding Cas

**3 weeks later**

*             *             *

     When Sam came into the hotel room, bag of fast food in his left hand, he didn’t know what he expected to see and hear.  Dean yelling?  Breaking things?  Playing loud music to drown out his brother’s concerned questions which were sure to come?  Praying?  All of those scenarios made more sense than the one he’d been dealing with for weeks.  He supposed he should be used to it by now, but it was still so unsettling to see Dean so silent and small, hunched in his usual position over a foot high stack of books, papers scattered about him like fallen leaves and a pencil behind each ear.  Sam guessed that if he had seen this picture before Cas was kidnapped, he would have laughed that Dean would ever do research voluntarily.  Now it just made him unbearably sad.

     Dean’s reaction to Castiel’s disappearance had been alarming at best.  At first, Sam assumed that his brother’s heightened fear for Cas’s wellbeing stemmed from their newly evolved relationship.  After all, Dean did not exactly have a great track record of serious romantic relationships, and he had seen many a girlfriend taken advantage of by evil forces.  Hell, Sam could relate to that fear.  He had lived it possibly worse than Dean, what with Jess’s tragic and untimely death.  But after a week, it became clear to Sam that there was something else going on, something that Dean was keeping from him for some reason that he could not comprehend.  Sam had respected that wish, wanting to let Dean cling onto whatever bit of privacy he had left, but it had now been three weeks since the incident, and with the lack of progress they had been making in tracking the angel down, Sam thought it was time for his older brother to spill the beans.

     “How’s it going?” Sam asked nonchalantly, setting down a burger in front of each of them, frowning as Dean pushed his to the side in favor of a new book.

     “What do you think? Craptastic.  As usual.”

     “Sorry to hear that,” Sam replied, taking a bite of his burger before making a face and pushing it aside, too.  “Anything I can help with?”

     Dean slapped an impressive pile of books with his free hand as he took a swig of beer.  “I’ve already read through these if you want to take a second look.”

     “Umm… wouldn’t it be more helpful if I took a look at the ones you _haven’t_ read yet?  We’d get through them a lot faster.”

     “Nah, comb through these.  I could use a second opinion.”  He dove back into his book, clearly wanting silence, but Sam wasn’t giving up that easily.  He leaned over the table, trying to maintain eye contact, but the page Dean was on caught his attention instead.

     “Nephilim?” he chuckled, and Dean stiffened, snapping his eyes back to Sam’s face immediately.  “You have heard of skimming, haven’t you?  You don’t have to read the irrelevant parts.  What, have you been reading up on Cupids and Archangels too?”

     Dean glared.  “So sorry for being thorough,” he retorted smoothly.  He flipped through to the next section, but Sam noted that he earmarked the page as he did so.  Sam couldn’t be sure if it was out of stubbornness or desperation to find any tiny clue possible.

     “Dean,” Sam said, losing his patience.  “Can we please talk seriously?”

     “We are talking, Sam,” he replied drily, head still buried in the book.

     “No, we’re not.  Not really.”  He forced the book shut and Dean turned away, blinking irritably.  “You wanna tell me what going on?”

     “Sure Sam, how about this?  My best friend-turned-lover has been sick and weak ever since he got back from the ‘Enchanted Forest,’ and when he’s finally feeling half-decent and we’re getting our lives back together, it all goes to hell again and… wait, there’s something else… oh yeah.  _He got freakin’ kidnapped and I don’t have a clue who did it or how to get him back._ ”

     Sam sighed.  “I’m sorry.  But you know that’s not what I mean.”

     “What then?”

     “Dean,” he reasoned, “before this whole mess happened, the two of you figured out what was weakening his powers.  Look, I know whatever it is, it’s personal, but I really think it would help if you told me so I can—”

     “Absolutely not.

     Sam sighed once more.  “Look, you’re the one who just said it; two heads are better than one, and all that.  I just think you’d have a better chance at figuring this out if you’d let me offer my perspective on—”

     “I said no, Sam.  It’s not up for debate,” he replied dangerously as he gathered his notes off the table and retreated to his bed.

     At that point, Sam was too frustrated to avoid pushing Dean’s buttons.  He wanted answers.  He was about to point out to Dean that Cas was his best friend and he wanted him home safe too, but at that moment his cell phone rang.

     He glanced at the screen and greeted, “Hey Kevin,” rather shortly.  After a moment, his eyebrows raised and he corrected himself.  “Garth?  Oh, hey, what’s up?”  Dean looked up interestedly from his research.

     “Um… okay,” he responded to the hunter on the phone, tearing a blank sheet from Dean’s pad and stealing a pen.  “Ready.”  After a moment, he glanced at Dean and murmured, “Sorry, Garth, I don’t think we can take this.  It’s really not a good—No, you’re gonna have to find—There’s gotta be someone else in the area who can take care of it.  Wait… how’d you know where we were, anyways?”

     “Hey!  Sam!”  Dean interjected.  “Give it here,” he ordered, motioning for the device and pulling it to his ear.  “Garth?  Hey, it’s Dean.  Why don’t you give us the info, and we’ll get it sorted.  Mhmm… yeah, got it,” he informed him, scribbling down details in the margins of a page.  “Sure.  No problem, man.”  He ended the call and handed the phone back to Sam before beginning to pack up his stuff.

     “Did you just take a case?!”

     “Uh, yeah,” replied Dean like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

     “Sorry, it’s just— _I_ don’t have any problem with taking this, but are you sure _you_ want to do this?  I mean, with Cas and everything that’s happened, I just thought…”

     “Yeah, well, I’ve completely failed at finding Cas, so far, so I just thought it’d be a nice change to finally do something right.  Just a nice, straightforward case to work on the side while I get through more research.  Unless that’s a problem?”

     Sam wanted to say that, yes, that _was_ a problem, that Dean was obviously in a lot of pain and that taking a case would not be the best way to distract himself from his pain, but instead he just coughed and muttered, “Um, yeah.  Sure thing,” as he began to pack his bags, regretting much of what had been said that night.

*             *             *

     Charlie listened sadly as Dean informed her, “In this life, you can’t afford attachments.  You just gotta… let go.”

     “Are we still talking about Sam, or did you break up with someone too?”

     “Me?”

     “Yeah.”

     “…No.”  He hesitated as Charlie gave him a skeptical look.  He sighed dejectedly.  “It’s more complicated than that.  Don’t look at me like that… Okay, if you’re really gonna beat it out of me, let’s at least save it for after we catch this guy.”

*             *             *

     “So let me get this straight: you go on a super straight-forward rescue mission, but your boyfriend starts to get sick again for no apparent reason, and the guy you saved is killed by an invisible man right out front of your eyes, and your boyfriend vanishes into thin air?”  Charlie let out a puff of air.  “Woo, boy.  I’m not quite sure what to say to that.”

     “It’s a story,” Dean admitted, smiling with dull eyes.

     “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?  I mean, I’m not trying to pry, but from the 5 minute version of the super complex story of how you met, I got the impression that you’re… well…kind of used to this.  I mean, danger kind of comes with the job, right?  You practically chase it,” she laughed nervously.  “You’ve almost lost him and Sam so many times that I’m surprised you can keep track, but you always save them in the end, even when it seems waaaaay more impossible than this, so… why the fuss?  I mean I’m not saying you shouldn’t be in complete anxiety over this, I’m just saying it doesn’t seem to be your M.O.”

     Dean sighed, turning his body slightly away and rubbing his arms.  “It’s hard to explain without talking about crap that I don’t want to deal with right now.  Let’s just say this: Cas and I have been through Hell together, literally, and we’ve both lost a lot.  The chance at a normal life, at a family… and we thought we were finally getting our chance.  I mean, we were freakin’ happy and we actually had stuff we were looking forward to, and now…”

     “Now it’s even worse, having so much more taken away from you.  When your hopes get high, the fall is a _lot_ harder,” she sympathized.  “I know from experience.”

     “I just… I think it’s too much for me to lose this time.”

     Charlie leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “You’ll get him back.  Promise.”

     “You can’t promise that.  No one can,” he told her bitterly.

     Charlie looked at him curiously.  “Yes I can.  I know you’re gonna get him back because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person want something so bad.  You got this champ, you just gotta work it out.”  She offered a small crooked smile, getting just a hint of one from Dean as she put an arm around his waist and walked him to the car.

*             *             *

**1 week later**

*             *             *

     “Dean?”

     “What?”

     “You okay?”

     “I’m fine.”

     “You sure?” Sam questioned.  “It’s just, we literally just discovered a secret lair,” he commented, gesturing to the newly lit Men of Letters bunker.  “I thought you might be a little more, I don’t know… interested?”

     “Yeah?  Well sorry for being the freakin’ Scrooge,” Dean grumbled, pushing past him.

     “Dean, you don’t look like the Scrooge.  You look like…”

     “Like what, Sam?”

     “Like a man who just put his grandfather in the ground.  Like a man who’s worried sick about his boyfriend.  I want to help, Dean.”

     “You can’t help,” Dean snarled.  “It’s been four weeks, Sam.  A whole month.  And no matter how many times we do this, I will never _ever_ be ready for when it’s Cas I have to bury.”

     “Dean!  Don’t say that!  He’s gonna be okay!”

     The older hunter hung his head.  “I want to believe that, but I also know that getting my hopes up is only gonna cause more pain, just like it always does.”  He went quiet, and looked up at Sam expectantly.

     “What?” questioned the younger hunter.  “Listen, contrary to whatever you might think about me, I want to help in whatever way I can, even if that means just shutting up.  What do you want me to do, nag you some more about telling me the truth?  I get it, Dean, it’s too much to talk about.  You don’t have to.”

     Dean leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, and sighed.  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” he divulged, and Sam stood straighter in surprise.  “I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time I let you know, ‘cause it’s only gonna get harder to say, the more faith I lose.”

     Sam laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Dean, I’m here.  No matter what.  Just… make sure if you tell me it’s because you want to.  Not because I talked you into it.”

     Dean looked downwards, the circles under his eyes suddenly more pronounced.  “I think I should.  You have a right to know.  It’s just that—who the hell is texting me at this hour?” he growled, pulling a vibrating phone from his pocket.  He squinted at the screen, reading the new message until his eyes suddenly went very wide and the color drained from his face.

     “Dean!” exclaimed Sam, as the older hunter shakily collapsed into the nearest chair.

     “Sam, you may want to see this.”  He handed his phone to his younger brother and anxiously rubbed his face in his hands.

     Sam read aloud, “‘Dean Winchester, the angel Castiel is in my possession.  Come to the following address immediately, and no harm will come to him.  Our location is 323 Shai Lane, Lincoln Springs, Missouri.  Enter the warehouse alone and unarmed and come down to the lowest level.  If you follow these instructions quickly enough, Castiel’s life may be spared.’  Dean, you okay?”

     “Not really,” he admitted, voice muffled through his hands.

     “Look, I know it’s hard to think of it like this, but this is a good thing.  It means he’s alive.”

     “Yeah,” was all he said.  He couldn’t help but be disturbed that there was no mention of their unborn child when Cas would surely be noticeably showing right now… unless something had happened to the baby?  Why else would his captor not use him or her as a bargaining tool as well?  Dean tried to force the unpleasant thought out of his head.  There had to be some other explanation.  Cas was smart.  He must have tricked his kidnapper somehow or worked up just enough juice to mess with their mind.  “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

     “Dean, we can’t just walk in there.  It’s obviously a trap.”

     Dean picked his keys off the table anyways, not leaving any room for argument.  “Yeah, and it’ll still be a trap two days from now when this sicko has lost their patience and Cas is dead.  Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Left you all with another cliffhanger because I'm a bitch. Review anyways. It gives me joy to see all your reactions/speculations/complaints/conspiracy theories.


	12. Stop the Blood Flow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. Here it is.

     “Sam, wait!” Dean hissed, taking a few steps back.

     “Dean, we talked about this. We have to move fast—”

     “Shhh…”  The older hunter pressed his ear to a stone wall.  “Do you hear that?”

     “No,” Sam said impatiently, anxious about standing in the middle of a trap.  However, his brow crinkled a moment later.  “No,” he repeated, “but I do feel a draft, and it’s coming from behind here.  What do you think we should—?”

     At that moment, Dean took a step back and slammed his heel into the wall multiple times, causing it to crack and finally crumble into gray rubble at his feet.

     “Dean!” hissed Sam, but Dean paid him no mind as he clambered over the remaining stones.  “There goes our element of surprise.”

     “Cas?” Dean called into the darkness, gun raised blindly.  Sam quickly followed.  “You in here?” he asked urgently, kicking aside pieces of the deteriorated wall.  He could just make out the corners of a large room as his eyes adjusted to the light, but they weren’t adjusting quickly enough for his liking, so he switched on his flashlight, to Sam’s protests, and scanned the room.

     His heart lurched as he spotted a huddle on the floor.  “Cas?  Is that you?”  He stepped closer, shining the light more accurately on his target, and pointing his gun that way, just in case.  The figure on the floor jolted, head snapping up he scooted back against the wall.

     The light caught a pair of very blue petrified eyes.

     Dean let out a gasp of air he didn’t know he’d been holding in, and he wasn’t sure whether it was out of sadness or relief or joy, but it may have been a mixture of all three.  He rushed towards Cas, skidding onto his knees at his side and swallowing harshly as the light illuminated the angel’s tired features.  Cas was deadly pale with a sheet of sweat covering his entire face.  His hair was matted and unkempt, and he had grown peach fuzz on his jaw once again.  He had a steady stream of blood coming from within his ear, but the wound was scabbed as well, meaning that he had been injured in the same spot multiple times.  There was also dried blood that seemed to have come from the corner of his eye.  Dean clenched his fists as he noticed more dried blood around small puncture wounds in Cas’s forehead, much like the ones that Alfie had received from the spikes driven into his skull by Crowley’s mad servant.  Brushing a thumb against Cas’s left cheek, Dean also noticed that both cheekbones jutted out and one was marred by a multicolored bruise.  Cas’s eyes were hollow, the circles under them pronounced; in fact, Cas’s entire figure looked sickeningly skinny.   His clothes hung loose around him, tie askew and trench coat hanging off one shoulder and covering most of his body.  On the other hand, even though Dean could not see much of Cas’s torso under the tan fabric, he was relieved to see that Cas’s belly itself looked significantly fuller than it had a month ago.  His wings were ragged and dull, however, but they did see to be relatively unharmed.  Dean’s eyes travelled back up Cas’s frame, noting the splatters of blood on the dirty white cotton of his collar.  There was a thin slice on his neck, and the blood had pooled and then congealed in the hollow of his collarbone.  Upon closer inspection, the hunter could see faint bruises on Cas’s neck as if someone had tried to strangle him, and he gulped once more, feeling physically sick.

     “Dean,” Cas croaked, dry lips shakily forming the word and red-rimmed eyes blinking nervously.

     “It’s okay, Cas, we’re getting you out of here,” he assured him, stroking the split in Cas’s lip.

     “No, get yourself out now!  It’s a trap!” the angel warned, weakly pushing him back.

     “I know,” he confirmed, coming close once more and taking the angel’s hand reassuringly.  “What’re we up against?  Demon?”

     Cas shook his head.  “Angel,” he gasped, and Dean quickly swapped his pistol bearing Devil’s trap bullets for an angel blade.

     He stiffened, feeling the point of another blade pressed against his back.  Sam’s surprised warning came a second too late as an authoritative voice informed him, “I’m afraid that won’t get you very far, Dean Winchester.  Stand,” the mysterious woman ordered, and he did, not letting go of the blade, but not raising it either.  Cas had gained a newly petrified look, but Dean noticed that his skin was now a healthy shade, his wings were smooth, and his baby bump was reduced to the size it had been when he was taken.  He assumed that Cas’s captor was unaware of his pregnancy, so it was a relief to find that their baby would not become a bargaining chip in whatever was to come.

     “Turn around.”  Dean did so, turning to face the kidnapper for the first time.  He’s not sure what he had expected to see.  An old hag?  A tough looking biker-type with lace-up boots and tattoos?  He was totally unprepared to find that she was a moderately young woman in a neat suit, hair tied back and eyes bright.

     “You,” he grunted.  “Are you Na—Naomi?”

     She merely smiled.  “Come to this side of me,” was all she said, and he reluctantly complied, angrily biting his lip as the well-dressed angel shifted the blade from him to Castiel.

     “Now, that’s better,” she commented.  “Look over there,” she commanded, nodding towards the far side of the room.  “In that box, you will find the angel tablet that you’ve heard so much about.  I want you to open it and hold it out in front of you in one hand, blade behind your back.”

     “Dean,” warned Sam and Cas simultaneously, but Dean shuffled over to Naomi’s designated destination and did as he was told.  In the blink of an eye, the tablet vanished from his grasp and was nestled in the crook of the female angel’s arm.

     “Okay, we’ve done our part.  Now give us the angel and let us leave,” Dean commanded gruffly.  Naomi huffed bemusedly.

     “No,” she responded, letting out another short bark of laughter.  “No, I don’t think so.  You see, the original plan was to have Castiel take you here and then kill you, but something’s wrong with him, Dean; maybe you know what?  I trained him to complete this one _specific_ test, and he failed every time.  Now, Castiel here has always been somewhat disobedient, but this wasn’t sheer willpower to not obey my commands.  He is too physically weak to do so.  Each of your doubles overpowered him easily.” She frowned.  “It ruined my plan, and I had to get creative.  I did everything I could to rewire his system, but nothing’s working anymore.  He’s immune to my control.  He has too much humanity within him, and he’s become useless to me and dangerous to angels.  So, I brought him here so I could finally get you.  Both of you, because you’ve been getting in the way, Dean.  Still, this arrangement was… a compromise.  It was a good compromise, a smart compromise, but I have no more patience for diplomacy.”  She raised her chin.  “You have one option only: Come here and take his place, or I’ll kill him and then you like I planned.”

     Dean was still for a moment, trying to work out another way to get all four of them out safely, but his mind was blank.  He hung his head dejectedly.  “Dean, no,” Cas protested, but Dean nodded his consent.

     “I have to, Cas.  You know that.”

     “Wonderful,” she purred.  “Come to me, _slowly_.”  However, her brow furrowed after a moment.  “Wait.  Stop.  There’s still one thing bothering me, and you may just have the answer.  Your wings,” she stated, turning towards Castiel.  “With scorching like that, you would certainly be hiding them at all costs, especially from other angels.  And even if you are weak, they should be the last energy conservation method to be used.  So why, Castiel?  Why shame yourself like this, unless…”  She sucked in a breath, ignoring the shouts of the Winchesters as she backed Cas against the wall, yanking him upright by the front of his shirt and holding her blade to his throat.  “What are you?  What’s wrong with you?”  She gripped his tie and leered in his face as he tried to push himself into the wall.  She was much smaller than him, but he was clearly intimidated.

     “Nothing,” he stammered, but the instant she hit his head against the wall, his wings flickered to their true state and his cheekbones hollowed once more for the slightest second before the glamour returned.  However, it was one second too long.

     “No,” she hissed disbelievingly.  “I saw your grace clearly, but…it’s impossible.  Say it isn’t true, Castiel!  It must be something else!”  The dark-haired angel whimpered.  “This is an abomination!  You will bring about the destruction of Heaven!” she yelled, and as she was preoccupied with her discovery, Dean sprang forwards, forcing a knife into the back of her neck and through her throat before throwing her body aside.  She crumpled in a still heap on the floor and Cas cried out.

     “It’s okay, Cas,” Dean breathed reassuringly as the male angel collapsed into his arms, silent and weak.  “She’s gone.”  He rubbed soothing circles into Cas’s back and pressed his nose into his hair, not caring that he was dirty and absolutely reeking.  He held him tight to his chest, glad to finally feel his solid form in his arms again.  “We can go home now…Cas?” he asked, expecting a response, but nothing came, and his chest constricted as he noted how limp Cas had gone.  “Cas!”  He eased Cas onto the ground, heart pounding in his throat as Cas’s head lolled to the side.  Something was wrong, terribly wrong… He tore open the trench coat letting out a dry sob as he revealed a splash of red blossoming from the middle of his abdomen.

     “No.  This can’t happen.  Not now, Cas.  Wake up, damnit!” he shouted, cupping his lover’s face in his hands.  He was vaguely aware of Sam by his side.  “Sam!  Help!  She got him!” he cried, turning his tear-streaked face up towards his brother.

     “Dean,” he soothed, trying to pull the aggravated hunter back.  “It’s okay; he’s breathing.  We’ll patch him up and—”

     “No, no.  Crap.  Come on, don’t do this to me.  You can’t.”  He firmly applied pressure to the wound, almost gagging as his fingers were stained red with Cas’s blood.  He moaned, mournfully dipping his head to press his cheek to Cas’s own.

     “Dean,” insisted Sam, as if he was offended by Dean’s distress.  “It’s ok—”

     “Sam, he’s pregnant!”

     There was a moment of stunned silence.  Sam shook his head at the impossibility.  “Wha—?”  Then he connected the dots, face dawning in realization.  “Oh, shit.  Okay, crap, okay, we can do this.  Keep pressure on that; I’m gonna bring the car right up to the front door.  I promise, Dean, I’ll do everything I can.”

     Dean barely noticed as he left the room, eyes transfixed on the scarlet seeping through his fingers.  He barely noticed when he returned as well, unable to look away from the small pool beginning to form on the floor.

     “Let me carry him,” Sam insisted.  “You keep pressure on that all the way until we get to the Bunker and I’ll drive.”  Dean only numbly nodded, keeping both hands pressed to Cas’s stomach as the taller hunter scooped his small frame off the ground.

     By time they got to the Bunker, Cas’s entire front was a deep red in spite of any efforts by Dean to stop the blood flow.  Sam practically had to pry the angel from his arms to take him inside and Dean immediately fell into step behind him, trailing them like a puppy dog.

     He looked agonizingly at Cas’s hollowed face as Sam ran to get their medical supplies.  He wasn’t sure if Cas could hear prayers when unconscious, but just like every night that the angel had been in Naomi’s captivity, Dean prayed, and he prayed hard for a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say to that. How about you do the talking in the comments, and I'll respond?!


	13. Dark Blood Pooling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go lovelies. Time to learn the fate of our Destiel baby. :O

     In the dim light of the cavernous room, one could just make out the forms of an angel and a hunter.

     The angel, Castiel, lay supine on a long wooden table, pallid skin reflecting more light than it should.  His cheeks caught far too many shadows in their sunken state and his closed eyes could only be seen as two pronounced circles.  His lips were dry; his skin was bruised.  He was in a state of undress, trench coat long forgotten and strewn over an empty chair, dusty pants undone at the waist, tie missing, and the no-longer-white shirt torn open to expose his domed belly which had been stitched and bandaged extensively.

     The hunter, Dean Winchester, sat on the ground with his back against the table leg, feet stretched out amidst the shattered lamp and rumpled papers that he had pushed frantically to the ground hours earlier to create a makeshift operating table.  His head was buried in his hands as he tried to clear it of the recent events that kept flashing across his vision, but he could not get rid of thoughts of Cas’s dark blood pooling on the table and dripping onto the floor, staining his shoes and jeans and hands in a way that Dean could never wash out.  He still had red and brown caked beneath his fingernails, and though Sam had thoroughly sterilized the area, disposed of their clothing, and vigorously scrubbed their skin, Dean’s entire nasal passages were clogged up with the thick, rusty tang of blood.  He was completely still, saving for trembling as he struggled to deal with his emotionally drained and overwhelmed state.

     He jumped ten feet as a hand grasped his shoulder, unable to comprehend that Sam was suddenly by his side as he had failed to notice a single footstep.

     His infinitely tall brother managed to come down to his level so their faces were even.  “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s gonna be okay, Dean.”  Sam’s gaze was steady; Dean’s was wobbly, unstable, and slightly wet.

     The older hunter grunted and turned away, glancing up at the tufts of dark hair in his line of vision.  “No, Sam, it’s not.”

     “But Cas—”

     “I _failed_ , Sam.  I failed to protect him.  It was my one job and I screwed it up,” he spat tearfully.  “So no, it’s not okay because he’s hurt real bad and possibly on the brink of death, and I couldn’t stop it because I wasn’t there like I should’ve been.”

     “Like you should have been?!  Dean, there’s nothing you could’ve done to save him, short of what you did do!”  Sam shuddered out a breath, eyes saddening.  “ Besides, none of it matters.  I told you; Naomi was dead before she could sink the blade in properly.  His wound is long, but it’s not deep.  He’s gonna be okay, even if he’s not right now.  And… so is your kid.”  Dean turned back to look at him warily but he still seemed closed off to the topic.  Sam sighed and changed the subject.  “Has he shown any signs of waking up yet?”

     “No.”

     “Do you want to wake him?  It’s been a few hours.”

     Dean glanced upwards again.  “I want to, but I won’t.  He needs sleep right now.  I don’t think that bitch let him sleep at all, and even if she did, he was probably too scared to.  When she found out… she wanted to cut the baby right out of him, Sam.  Why on Earth would she do that?”

     “I don’t know,” Sam admitted.  “I’m just glad she didn’t succeed.  But…” he made a face.  “Do you hear that?”

     “What?” Dean asked, listening carefully and noticing a quiet whine.  “Cas?!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet as he identified the sound as the angel’s voice.  The dark-haired man was stirring, brow furrowed and limbs aimlessly moving.  “I think he’s having a nightmare.”

     “Maybe we _should_ wake him.”

     Dean decided he was right, unable to watch anymore as Cas let out a distressed cry.  “Cas!  It’s okay, wake up!”

     The angel’s eyes snapped open, gasp quivering from his open mouth.  He pushed himself backwards across the table, eyes darting around the room like a startled animal’s, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s as he greedily sucked in air.

     “Cas, hey it’s me, buddy!  We’re somewhere safe, okay?”

     Cas’s eyes pulled Dean into focus.  “Dean?”  He became fearful once more as he examined his surroundings.  “Then it’s true?  It really happened?  Naomi—?”  He looked down at his bandaged skin, devastation crossing his features.  “No,” he moaned, head falling back with a _thunk_ as his hands caressed his lower abdomen.  “No.”

    “Cas, buddy,” Sam approached cautiously. “Everything’s fine.  You’re going to be—”

     “You wouldn’t understand,” Cas snapped, pained eyes darting towards the taller hunter.  “Sam, I was—”

     “Pregnant,” Sam finished.  Cas looked confused.

     “I had to tell him when it happened.  He knows,” Dean confessed somewhat ashamedly, but Cas didn’t seem to mind the breach of privacy.

     “And… you think the baby is okay?” Cas turned his head towards Sam hopefully.

     “You bled a lot, but your wound is shallow,” Sam explained.  “I _think_ you’ll both be fine, but we were hoping you could tell us for sure.”

     Cas’s lip trembled as he took a deep breath, pushing himself off the table, Dean’s guiding hand on his back to assist him in getting upright.  Nevertheless, he winced at the effort, although he declined to comment on it.  “It’ll take a lot of concentration to do so, and I’m not sure exactly how much I can find out.  After all, I didn’t even notice I was expecting a child right away, not even when all the signs were clear.  But I’m sure I can at least get something… you two will need to be absolutely still and silent.”  Both hunters sat down in empty chairs, Dean as close as he could possibly be.  “You may be able to help, Dean, since this is your child too.  Give me your hand,” the angel ordered, and Dean complied.  Castiel pressed Dean’s hand directly in the center of his swollen abdomen and he wordlessly placed his own on either side, careful to not disturb the bandages that arced across his middle.  Gradually, his eyes began to glow and his wings were ruffled by an unfelt breeze.  Dean watched patiently, transfixed for a whole five minutes by the light in Cas’s eyes.

     After those five minutes had passed, Cas hunched over breathlessly, eyes going back to their normal state.  He looked exhausted, but otherwise unharmed.

     “What did you see?”  Dean demanded, earning a sharp look from Sam.

     “Not much,” the angel admitted.  “But what I saw was mostly good.  I can sense that there is life within me and it has not been harmed.”

     “So the baby’s okay?”  Dean asked frantically.

     “Yes,” said Cas, and the brothers let out a collective sigh.

     “You said ‘mostly good,’ though,” Sam pointed out.  “So what’s the bad news?”

     “The bad news is that I likely do not have enough grace to heal myself.  I’ll have to do it the human way.”

     “Hey, that’s okay,” Dean said keenly.  “Man, there’s a _lot_ worse that could happen.  We can take care of you.”  Cas offered a crooked half-smile and Dean was suddenly moved with emotion.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’s frame and he nestled his face into the crook of his neck.  “I missed you, buddy.  I was so worried,” he disclosed beneath his breath.

      “I love you, Dean.”  Dean held on tighter and he stayed that way for a while until Cas gently pushed him away, jokingly murmuring something about being stifled and their baby needing air.  Whatever it was, it made Dean chuckle.

     As Dean backed away, Sam moved closer and Cas pulled him in for a hug too.  “I’m glad to have you back,” Sam said.  “I was worried, too.”

     “Thank you, Sam,” Cas accepted warmly.

      “And hey, I never got to say it but, um, congrats!” he offered awkwardly, nervously glancing at Castiel’s protruding midsection.

     Cas noticed the glance.  “You can touch it if you’d like.  I don’t mind.”

     Sam chortled, obediently sprawling his large hand across the ballooning surface of Cas’s belly.  “Okay.  Wow.  I mean, I’m happy for you guys.  _Really_ happy.  But it is a little weird.  I mean, good weird, but still… weird.”

     “Tell me about it,” Dean deadpanned.

     “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”

     Cas shook his head.  “I tried to figure it out but it was all too muddled to tell.”

     “So what are you?  Five, six months?”

     “No, barely over four.”

     “Four?” Sam exclaimed, drawing his hand away and getting a better look.  “Wow, you’re big.  No offense,” he quickly clarified.

     “I take it as a compliment,” the angel accepted graciously.

     “So, how does it work then?  I mean, does it last as long as it would for a human woman?”

     “I believe so, maybe a bit shorter judging by my growth, but I’m not sure.  I don’t know a whole lot about it other than the fact that my body is constantly adapting to the baby’s needs.  It’s somewhat forbidden,” Castiel admitted sheepishly.

     Dean let out a full laugh.  “Dude, all we do is forbidden.   I think Sam’d be more surprised if it wasn’t.”

     “Yeah, but I have to wonder, why?  As far as I see it, you’re not doing any harm to anyone.”

     Cas shook his head.  “I’m not sure.  Most likely because of the extensive power a nephilim can hold.  Not to mention that the first nephilim on Earth were controlled by evil forces and the rebellious angels who bore them.”

     “Wait just a minute, are we having a superbaby?” Dean questioned.  “Because that is seriously awesome.”  Cas nodded, but Dean noticed that his eyes had glazed and he was slouched against the table.  “Hey,” he spoke in a softer tone, and Cas looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.  “You feeling okay?”

     “I’m in pain,” the angel admitted, stroking his swollen belly, “but I’ve had far worse.  I’m just relieved that the little one is healthy and safe from harm now.”

     “Me too,” Dean agreed, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss on the angel’s cheek, gauging Sam’s reaction which turned out to be nothing more than a satisfied smirk.  “You look beat.  Wanna get some shut-eye?”

     “Yes, please,” Castiel responded, buttoning his pants with much effort and gathering his discarded clothes in his arms, rounded tummy just barely peeking out underneath.

     “Good,” Dean said as Sam stifled a yawn.  “I think we all could use a rest.”

     The younger brother nodded and clapped Cas on the shoulder.  “Definitely.  Goodnight, guys.  And congrats.  Really,” he expressed contentedly as he offered them one last smile.

     When Sam had left, Dean buried his nose in Cas’s hair and breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

     “I smell awful.”

     “I don’t care, man.  You have no idea how much I need you, especially after everything that happened.”

     “I won’t be able to shower properly until the stitches heal,” the angel warned, brushing his hand against the wound on his protruding abdomen.

     “And I’m too goddamn tired to care.  We need sleep.  All three of us,” Dean stated with a weary yet honest smile.  “C’mon, let me take these,” he insisted, taking the bundle of fabric from Cas’s arms.  The angel caressed the bulge of his belly with both of his newly free hands as Dean promised, “I’ll help you get cleaned up tomorrow.”  He donned an enthusiastic expression.  “Come on, I’ll show you where our room is.”  Cas followed him curiously up the stairs, heart pounding with adoration every time Dean stopped with him to rest.

     “So,” gasped the angel when they reached the top of the staircase, “I’ve gathered that this is where you and Sam have been living, but what exactly is it?  It’s so big,” he stated in awe.

     “It’s a bunker that belonged to the Men of Letters.  They were pretty much gatherers of information on the supernatural, kind of like Bobby was.  This is where they kept their intel and weapons, did their research, lived… I mean, this is essentially a secret lair.  How cool is that?”

     “Very,” the angel said simply, but his tone was not dry or ironic at all.

     As they reached the door to their bedroom, Dean glanced back nervously.  He took a deep breath and opened the door, exposing the room to Castiel’s view for the first time.  The angel walked past him and through the door, taking in a thousand different things at once as his vision fired rapidly around the room.

     “Listen, I know it’s kind of empty on this side, but I just figured that since it’s your room too you’d want to have some say in how it looks.  I could help, too, if you want,” he offered quickly.  “I mean, if you want to share a room; it’s totally okay if you don’t wa—”

     Cas cut him off with a series of kisses, hardly taking a breath between each one.  He didn’t stop for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Safe Cas, healthy baby, and Destiel sex! All the good things and life. And... no goddamn cliffhanger!! :D


	14. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU HAVE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. IF YOU'RE STILL WONDERING ABOUT THE FATE OF CAS AND HIS BABY, YOU SKIPPED ONE.
> 
> The only reason I mention this is because the last update brought in significantly less reviews than normal and it occurred on Mother's Day, so I worry that some people might have accidentally missed it.

     Dean lay in bed, eyes futilely trying to block out the growing light and the reality of the day.  Last night he had been spared a nightmare, but his pleasant dream seemed to taunt him even more with visions of what could never be.  He thought of the empty spot on his bed, cold and vacant as always, mattress stiff where his lost lover had yet to rest.

     As he had been doing every day since Cas disappeared, he let out a reluctant groan and spread his palm across the blank sheets, praying for the angel to fill them soon.   However, this time his hand unexpectedly collided with a solid form.  He felt a pull at his chest as all the memories from the night before came flooding back to him.

     “Cas,” he gasped gratefully, bolting upright.

     “Dean?”  The pregnant angel was already sitting up in bed, wearing a sleepy expression on his bruised face.  “Are you okay?”  Dean responded with a series of passionate kisses, but Cas drew away, looking at him with a concerned gaze once more.  “Dean.”

     Dean rested his forehead against Cas’s and pressed his hand to Cas’s rounded tummy.  “Yeah,” he croaked.  “Yeah, I just—you’re home.  Finally.”

     Cas’s heart rose in his chest.  “Finally,” he repeated as he kissed Dean gently before carefully swinging his legs over the side of the bed and grunting as he bent down to pick up his discarded clothes.  Dean tried to do it for him, but the angel had straightened up before Dean’s feet even touched the floor.

     “Whoa, take it easy,” Dean warned as the Cas gripped his shoulder to regain his balance.  “You’re exhausted, injured, and we’ve got a kid on the way.  Just take it easy, okay?  Come on, how does breakfast sound to you?”

     Cas looked peeved at Dean’s pandering attitude, but his ears perked up at the mention of food, which he hadn’t eaten in weeks.  “Wonderful,” he confirmed, and judging by how Dean laughed, he had been more enthusiastic in his answer than expected.

     “Good,” Dean laughed, and Cas slid into his shirt, frowning down at the bloodstains and torn button holes.  Dean gently tugged it off to Cas’s surprise and said, “Worry about that later.  First priority is getting some grub in you right away.”  He threw the bundle back onto the ground.

     “But…”  Cas gazed downwards unsurely, placing a hand on his bandaged middle and feeling exposed.

     Dean’s eyes softened.  “Sam won’t mind.  Come on.”  Cas smiled peacefully and trailed Dean into the kitchen.  “Take a seat,” he ordered, gesturing to the empty chair at the end of the table, and Cas complied.

     Sam looked up from his laptop and grinned.  “About time you two woke up,” he remarked before taking a sip of his coffee.

     “Well, we had a lot of catching up to do,” Dean retorted with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle as he retrieved two coffee mugs and two plates from the cabinet.  “If you catch my drift.”

     “Ewwww, Dean,” Sam whined, closing his laptop and rubbing his forehead, “that was _not_ a mental image I needed.  That’s just – that’s gross, man.”

     Dean simply chuckled mischievously as he began to prepare breakfast for himself and Cas.

     Cas rested his elbows on the tabletop and leaned towards Sam.  “Don’t worry, Sam; the only catching up we did last night was on much-needed sleep.”  Dean rolled his eyes and Sam gulped down more coffee.  “If we had engaged in more physical activities, I assure you, you would have heard us,” the angel deadpanned causing Sam to spit his beverage back into his cup and for Dean to give a full-bellied laugh.

     “Oh yeah!” he beamed, sliding a cup of tea into Cas’s place at the table.  He offered a high five which Cas accepted with a smug grin.  “You got him good!”

     “You two will be the death of me,” Sam groaned into his palms, but his eyes betrayed an amused smile.

     “Three,” Dean corrected.

     “Soon enough,” Cas clarified.

     “Right,” said Sam with a breathy laugh.  He shook his head.  “I keep forgetting, I mean, I can still hardly believe it.  You guys with a kid… It’s just mind-blowing.”

     “Hey!” Dean responded sharply, sliding the contents of the frying pan onto a plate.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     Sam rolled his eyes.  “I just meant that aside from the whole pregnant male angel living in our secret bunker thing, we’re actually living a pretty normal life.  I mean, those are just details.  We finally have a real family, a home…  Dean, if you had told me that we’d someday have those things a few years ago, I would never have believed you.”

     Dean opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  Instead he nodded and retrieved the last of the food from the stove as Cas smiled gratefully into his tea.  He was given a large plate containing two eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast and his eyes went as wide as saucers as it was placed in front of him.  Dean himself had eggs and bacon and he passed a small platter of bacon and sausage to Sam who had already eaten a little that morning.

     “Eat up,” he sighed contentedly, and Cas dug in with fervor as Sam picked at his bacon while flipping through the pages of a book.

     “So, Cas,” said Sam, skimming the page without much interest, “You feeling better today?”

      “Mprmff mmm.”

     Dean let out a short bark of laughter.  Sam chuckled lightly as he looked up to see the angel’s puffed cheeks.

     Cas swallowed and tried again.  “Well, the food is certainly helping, and sleep was welcome.  My mind is still a little bit fuzzy, though.”  He took another generous forkful of egg as he finished speaking.

     Sam’s brows drew together.  “What do you mean by that?”

     Dean’s nostrils flared.  “He’s talking about the fact that that bitch –Naomi, right? – she tortured him.  Tried to dig into his noggin.”  He stabbed at the meat on his plate, inadvertently causing an unpleasant screeching sound.

     Cas’s eyes glazed over slightly and he dipped his head.  “No.  I mean, she did look for information, but she did more than that.”

     Dean gripped his fork, knuckles turning white in an instant.  “What?” he asked dangerously, eyes darting up from his meal to meet Cas’s.

     Castiel suddenly looked nauseous.  He carefully laid his fork to the side of his plate and clasped his hands over his ballooning stomach.  Head tipped back and eyes shut, he took a deep breath before admitting, “She didn’t only want to read my mind; she wanted to control it.  She wanted to weaponize me.”

     “Why?” said Sam incredulously.

     “Because,” Cas said, locking eyes with Dean, but unable to hold his gaze, “she wanted Dean dead and out of the way, and she _knew_ that his two biggest weaknesses are you and I.  She couldn’t use you to get to him because as a human, your mind cannot be overpowered except in the case of possession which you would never consent to.  But angels… we’re different.  We’re programmed to certain behaviors and that programming can easily be manipulated by someone who knows what they’re doing.  Like Naomi.”

      “So what did she want you to do?  Lure us there so she could kill Dean and I?”

     “No,” he breathed.  “She wanted _me_ to kill him, and you too, I’m assuming.  Her intention was to send me back to you, mind completely warped so I would attack as soon as you two showed me trust.  Thankfully, it did not work.”

      “But you said that she’s skilled at this.  So, we’re glad, of course, that she didn’t succeed, but I have to wonder… why didn’t it work?” inquired Sam.

     “A few reasons,” Cas responded.  “The first being that my mind and body rejected every attempt of hers to control it.  I believe it was the little guy here that saved us,” he claimed, patting the swell of his abdomen affectionately.  “I am no longer just an angel; I am an angel with another life inside of me, part angel, yes, but part _human_ too.  And that’s the essential part, that instinct of free will and choice… even her techniques couldn’t overcome that.

     “But,” he sighed, gaze downcast once more, “it was a physical limitation as well.  Naomi, she did something horrible.  She created these – these… simulations essentially of Dean that I was meant to kill.  Of course, I refused, and as a result she ordered them to attack me so I would be forced to fight in self-defense.  But I couldn’t.  They overpowered me every time because I was so weak and so reluctant to hurt these soldiers in the image of Dean.  And my body was taking quite the toll.  I hadn’t eaten or slept because it would have given away my condition, and as a result, my grace was struggling, especially considering that I had to use it to hide my symptoms of starvation and exhaustion and the development of… I believe you would call it my ‘baby bump?’”

     The brothers wore matching stunned expressions.  Sam shook out of his dazed state first and asked, “So what did she do then?  Since her plan thankfully didn’t work out the way she wanted it to?”

     “She tortured me.  A lot,” Cas revealed, looking disturbingly more comfortable with that topic than the previous one.  “She wanted to know why I was so weak, what was wrong with me, all of that, so she tried to dig into my mind, failing again, of course.  Then she tortured me physically and psychologically.  I was close to breaking, but I never did,” he informed them proudly.  “Finally she accepted the fact that her original plan had failed and that’s when she decided to use me as bait, and… well, you know the rest,” he finished, offering a shrug.

     Dean stood up very suddenly causing both his companions to flinch as his chair fell backwards onto the floor with a loud crash.  In an instant, he was kneeling in front of Cas, hands wound tightly around his waist and face pressed to his swollen belly.  Cas threaded his fingers into his hair and gently closed his eyes.  The lovers breathed deeply in their embrace, and even Sam was moved with emotion.

     Cas took a breath.  “I am appalled, of course, that I even raised a fist to one of your doubles.  I’m sorry, Dean.  I can’t even begin to express – I feel so dirty.”

     “Let’s go take a shower, then,” Dean murmured seductively and Sam coughed awkwardly, opting to carry his empty dish into the kitchen instead of listening in on their private moment.

     Cas shook his head sadly.  “I do need a shower, but that’s not the kind of ‘dirty’ I mean.”

     “I know.  I know you want to talk about that, and I’m willing to do that.  But trust me, the shower alone will make you feel so much better.”

*             *             *

     “I must admit, this is pleasant,” the angel murmured as Dean worked shampoo through his matted hair.  He was sitting in a half-full tub since he could not expose the wound on his belly to water until it healed better, and Dean knelt outside the tub, gently scrubbing every spot of dirt on his body.

     “I told you,” Dean practically purred, rinsing the suds out of his boyfriend’s hair.  He sighed and paused for a beat, resting a hand on Cas’s pointy shoulder.  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?  You got so skinny.  Except for your bump, of course.”

     “I’m weak, but improving.  I already feel worlds better.”

     Dean bit his lip, considering what he was about to say.  “Cas… you don’t have to feel guilty about what happened.  I’m glad you tried to defend yourself from me.  Well, not me, but you know what I mean.  If anyone ever threatens to hurt you, _especially_ while you’re carrying that child, you stab them in the heart the second they try to touch you.  You understand me?”

     “I think so.  I realize I overreacted.  I’ve been doing that a lot lately: jumping to conclusions, feeling guilt…”  He trailed off, watching the last of the water spiral down the drain.

     “Sure it’s not hormones?” Dean joked lightly, heaving Cas to his feet and wrapping him in a fuzzy towel.

     Cas rolled his eyes, taking Dean’s joke literally.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Dean; I am not a human woman.  My emotions are heightened along with my senses as a survival tactic.  I’m not moody, as you would say.  I’m overwhelmed.”

     Dean’s eyes crinkled, but he made no further comment on the topic.  “Here, bozo,” he instructed, “get dressed.”  He tossed Cas some clean clothes that they had purchased in secret right before the kidnapping, his usual ensemble of three piece suit and trench coat.

     After some effort, the angel managed to button the snug pants around his distended midsection, but after buttoning the top four buttons of his shirt, he ran into trouble.  Try as he might, he could not pull the shirt closed across his rounded tummy.  Grunting in frustration, he fastened the button above the bump and then attempted to suck in his stomach, pulling the shirt down to the position in was meant to be in.  The fabric was strained comically against the bulge of his belly, and Dean could not help but chuckle at the sight of it.  Cas frowned, but all intimidation of the look was lost as he drew in a breath, causing the button to ping off the shirt and hit Dean square in the forehead, sending him into a fit of uncontainable laughter.  Cas glowered, attempting to tug the unforgiving fabric across his large midsection.

     “Dude,” Dean said through gasps of air, “I think it’s time for you to get some maternity wear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!!! I've got more on the way and reviews always help move me along :)


	15. Everywhere

****

1 month later

*             *             *

     “Do you think Sam’s happy?” Dean asked suddenly one day, causing Cas to look up from his reading with an alarmed jolt.

     “What?”  The angel put his book aside and leaned back, stretching his back and causing his six-month pregnant belly to arc out in front of him.

     “You heard me,” Dean replied laying down his own reading material.

     “I did,” the angel agreed cautiously.  “I just don’t understand why you would think otherwise.”

     Dean shook his head and grunted, “Never mind.  It’s nothing.”

     “No, it’s not.”  Castiel heaved himself from his chair and eased himself onto the couch next to Dean.  It was a tight squeeze, especially with his new girth, but he managed.  “Tell me.”

     “It’s just… I’m happy, Cas.  I’m happy for the first goddamn time in my entire life.  With you, and the baby, and letting Sam take care of hunts… it’s great, but I feel like I don’t deserve this,” he explained, lips pursing for a moment in frustration.  “I’ve always been okay with hunting.  Never great, but okay with it.  And Sam’s the one who always wanted out.  He wanted a normal life; he _deserves_ a normal life and all I can think about is the fact that I’m the one getting what was always meant for Sam while he tracks down some missing boy way out in Washington state!”  His voice cracked at the end, wracked with emotion, but his eyes were dry.  Nevertheless, he rubbed them vigorously, ridding them of phantom tears.

     “You can’t really think that.”

     “Of course I think that!  What else am I to think, Cas?  I’m living the poor kid’s dream while he bears the load?  He must be miserable,” Dean snapped.

     Cas’s brow furrowed, and he absentmindedly put a palm to his distended belly which was quickly becoming a common resting place for his hands when he had nothing to do with them.  “No.  He’s really not.  I have to admit… you’re somewhat disillusioned, and I wish you could see what I see.”  Cas squinted, considering his next words.  “Sam _is_ happy because he _does_ have a family, Dean.  We are his family.  No, it’s not a ‘wife and 2.5 kids’ as you would say, but it’s the most of a family he’s ever had.  He understands that you now feel your job is to protect me, however incorrect of you that may be.”  Dean rolled his eyes and that and the corners of Cas’s mouth twitched.  “His new job is to protect us.  By taking these cases so you and I aren’t in danger.  So you can come home because you’re not too distracted by the _thought_ of home to see the monsters coming right at you.”

     Dean was skeptical.  “So what?  He’s just giving up his hopes and dreams to cater to us?  I’m not buying it Cas.”

     “I’m not selling anything,” the angel informed him, misinterpreting the phrase.  “And no, he’s not giving up his dreams.  He’s simply waiting.  You have to understand that the last time he tried to live an ordinary life, it didn’t end well for him.  He’s scared to try that again so soon, and this is his way of getting a taste of it without getting hurt.”  Cas paused, wicked smirk crossing his features.  “I thought you were the one who understands humans.  Can you really not see that your brother is thrilled to be living this life?”

     “No, I—” Dean let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.  “I just… it’s always been my job to protect him.  I don’t like the thought of him alone as he wishes he was in our place.”

     Cas actually let out a small laugh at that.  “I assure you, you don’t need to worry about that.  If anything, Sam is enjoying a bit of independence.”

     Dean smiled at the thought and sunk back into the cushiony surface, shoulders relaxing and fists unclenching.  “Good.”

     “Good,” repeated Cas, nestling into his side.  He looked up at the hunter’s calm face.  “Was that it?”

     “Well,” Dean admitted, “I was also thinking about when we’re actually gonna start telling people about the kid.  I mean, we missed the four-month mark so we have some serious catching up to do.”

     Cas grinned broadly, stroking the globe of his tummy contentedly.  “Yes.  Yes, I would like to inform people very much.  Who do we tell?  When do we tell them?”

     “Well, Kevin’s been living here for a whole week and he’s been holed up in his room this whole time.  Hasn’t even seen you yet.  I think that might be a good place to start.  Not to mention, I’d like to get him out and about too.  He can’t seem to let go of the fact that we want nothing to do with tablets anymore.”

     “Yes, telling Kevin will be easy, though it may take him some time to give up his obsession with the Word.  Who else?”

     “Well, usually it’s family.  Then friends.  And well,” Dean said, giving a sympathetic smug.  “All of ours are kind of dead.”

     Cas’s brow furrowed.  “I want to do this correctly,” he insisted.  “There has to be someone else we can trust.”

     Dean’s face lit up.  “Wait, there is someone.  A friend of mine who has been dying to meet you.”

     Cas’s face dawned in realization.  “Do you mean Charlie?”

     “Yeah,” he affirmed before shying away with a self-conscious cough.  “I mean, if that’s okay.”

     “Yeah.”  The angel smiled, and Dean could not help but beam enthusiastically.

     “Okay,” Dean said, allowing it all to sink in.  “Okay, let’s go tell Kevin.  Boy, is that kid in for a surprise.”

*             *             *

     “Surprise!” Dean exclaimed, finally moving aside to present Kevin with a clear view of Castiel’s belly.  Unfortunately, the prophet seemed anything but surprised.

     “About time,” he remarked, looking back down at the tablet with an unimpressed expression on his face.

     “Wow,” Dean responded, taken aback.  “Silly of me to expect a ‘congrats’ or maybe at least some shocked silence.  Dude, you look like someone just gave you the weather forecast.”  Kevin shrugged.  “Don’t tell me; you already knew Cas could get pregnant.”

     “Actually, yeah,” the prophet informed him, nonchalantly taking a bite of a questionable-looking sandwich to the left of him without ever stopping the rapid movements of his pencil.  “He’s an angel; of course he can get pregnant.”  Kevin glanced up at Dean’s offended expression.  “Really?  Do you know nothing about Nephilim at all?  This is textbook stuff, Dean.  If you ever bothered to do three seconds of research, you would have known.”  Suddenly he gagged and brought his finger to his lips, pulling something green and stringy from his mouth with a confused expression.  Dean wouldn’t admit it, but he might have thrown up in his mouth the slightest bit.

     “Okay then, O wise one,” he jabbed disappointedly, “I guess we’ll leave you to your work.”  As he and Cas exited the room, he commented, “Kind of a let down, huh?”

     Castiel nodded his agreement.  “Perhaps the reveal to your other friend will be more eventful.  Should we invite her over now?”

     “Soon,” Dean informed him, “but not yet.  First, you need some new clothes.”

     “New clothes?” Cas protested, looking down at his ensemble of black pants and a soft green button down shirt, not much of a change from his usual attire, but as far as Dean could convince him to go.  “I just got new clothes a month ago,” he reminded the hunter with a stern expression.

     “Yeah, and you’re already growing out of them.  Seriously, look at yourself, man.”  Indeed, his trousers were now snug about his waist and the buttons of his shirt were beginning to strain, not as drastically as before, but definitely enough to be noticeable.

     “Oh.  Yes, my midsection has expanded,” the angel conceded.  “The child is growing quickly.”

     “Really quickly.  I think this might be the last time you can come into public with me.”

     Cas drew back with an affronted scowl.  “Why?”

     “Because,” Dean reasoned softly, “You don’t look like a guy who’s simply let himself go anymore.  You look, well, _pregnant_.  It’d be different if you were a heavyset guy, but, dude, you’re like a rail for the most part.”

     “But male pregnancy is not possible in humans.”

     “No, it isn’t, but people are going to assume something’s wrong, like you’ve got a tumor, or tapeworm or something like that.  And we don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

     “Okay,” Cas resigned.  “But if this is my last time, is there any chance…?”

     “What?”

     “Could we maybe do some shopping for the baby too?  I’d like to be there,” he admitted.

     Dean’s eyes softened and he felt his heart melt a little inside.  “Yeah.  Okay, let’s do that.”

*             *             *

     “Please, Cas?”

     “No.”

     “But—”

     “I said _no_ , Dean.”

     Dean pursed his lips, glaring at the angel who was currently robed in a loose maroon tee shirt and baggy gray sweatpants.  He seemed to be drowning in fabric at the moment, but he would surely grow into it soon enough.  “You’ll regret it later if you don’t.  Dude, you’re gonna be so comfy in those when you get really big.”

     Dean had convinced Cas to give up his formal attire for more casual, comfortable clothes, but the angel would only go so far.  He was tolerant of stretchy jeans and soft long sleeve shirts, but he was reluctant for a change any more drastic than that.  He scowled wordlessly at Dean’s suggestion.

     “Look, dude, you don’t have to wear them,” Dean tried.  “Just let me buy them at least so you’ll have them if you want them?”

     The pregnant angel sighed and gave him a bitchface that Sam would be proud of.  “Fine.  But I’m not promising anything,” he warned.

     Dean put up his hands defensively.  “I wasn’t asking you to,” he said, even though he was determined to see the sweats on Cas again if it was the last thing he did.

     In the end, Cas decided to let Dean purchase the sweats along with many other clothes.  In total, Cas had acquired ten new pairs of jeans, seven new long-sleeved shirts, four tee shirts, and five pairs of sweatpants.  Of course, some of the items were still too loose on Cas and were intended for the time when his belly expanded further.

     Thirty minutes later, Dean pushed another nearly full grocery cart down the aisle of a large store, thought this time, the items were for a much smaller person.  Cas and Dean discovered themselves to be incapable of stopping themselves from picking out excessive amounts of stuff for their unborn child.  They had chosen a large array of baby onesies, socks, and hats for their child, most  gender-neutral designs since they did not yet know the gender of their baby, but they also had a few that said things like “favorite son,” and “Daddy’s little girl.”  There was also a pink one that said “princess” to Dean’s displeasure, an item that Cas had insisted on due to his appreciation of the sparkly designs.  Alongside the many outfits nestled into the grocery cart, the hunter and angel had been sure to include other essentials such as diapers, baby formula, bottles, and blankets.  They were currently facing the dilemma of selecting a crib.

     Cas had instantaneously gravitated towards a simple dropside white crib with thin rails and an elegant frame.  Dean, however, had immediately struck it down, pointing out that it was made of plastic.

     “Why does that matter?” Cas had protested, leading Dean to explain in hushed tones that wood was best since they could carve protection symbols easily into the posts.

     That left them with two options.  One was a sturdy masculine looking crib with dark wood, thick beams, and a heavy base.  The wood was polished and smooth, creating a very finished look.  The other was nearly the opposite, and similar in design to the one Cas had previously picked out.  It featured thin rails and a dropside design, as well as swirled accents on the posts and an overall elegant look.  Cas frowned deeply at the two cribs, clearly torn.

     “I feel like this one would be perfect for our son, and this one perfect for our daughter,” he explained to the exasperated hunter who was seriously beginning to wish they could go home, “and we don’t know which we are having.”

     “Well what am I supposed to do about that?  It’s not like I know.”

     “We…” Cas trailed off unsurely, taking a minute to clear his throat.  “We could get both.”

     Dean rolled his eyes, but surprisingly, made no objection.  “I don’t see why not,” he sighed, lifting both heavy boxes with ease into their overflowing cart.  Cas trailed behind him to the cash register.

     “Good afternoon!” greeted their overly enthusiastic cashier, a middle aged woman with a round face and auburn hair.  “Did you two find everything okay?”

     “Uh, yeah,” responded Dean, feeling uncomfortable.

     “Great!  Wow, you have quite a bit here.  Is your wife expecting?”

     Dean wasn’t sure exactly what made him say it.  At first he wanted to play along with the woman’s question, after all, just claiming the purchases were for a pregnant wife was the easiest thing to do, and it was somewhat true.  However, Cas was right at his side, and his presence made him blurt, “Uh, no… Me and my husband here are adopting.”

     “Oh, that’s nice,” the woman expressed, smile never faltering as she packed away their purchases, causing  Dean to breathe a sigh of relief that he never saw coming.  The woman sounded sincere as she added, “Very exciting.  Congrats!  A boy and a girl?”

     “Uh, yeah,” he told her, not having another answer that could explain the clothes for both genders and the two cribs.  “Twins.”

     “Well, the best of luck to you,” she wished them as she brought up the total on her screen.

     Dean noticed that Cas looked a bit worn so he handed him the keys and offered, “You can go out to the car now if you want.  I’ll just finish up paying and bring the stuff out.”  Cas nodded with a thankful smile and he offered a dorky little wave to the cashier as he shuffled out the door.

     “Cute partner,” she mused, sliding ‘Tim Bonham’s’ card through the machine.  “Are you guys going to assemble the crib yourself or would you like to purchase our services to set it up for you?”

     “We can handle it, thanks,” Dean responded, pocketing his wallet after she returned his card and grasping the handle of the cart.

     “Great!  Congrats!”  Dean gave one last awkward nod and began to push his cart towards the exit of the store.

     He quickly realized that his boyfriend was back inside the store, and his pace quickened as he noted something fearful in the angel’s expression.  Castiel was standing very stiffly, skin so pale it was nearly ashen, and he had a hand splayed nervously across his rounded tummy.  His lip trembled as Dean approached him.

    “Cas?  What is it; what’s wrong?” the hunter demanded in a hushed tone.

     The angel shook his head disbelievingly.  “Demons,” he croaked.  “Demons out in the street.  They’re everywhere, Dean.  Everywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... Demons are never a good thing.  
> Please review! I miss hearing your reactions!


	16. Time is of the Essence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are weighing me down, but I finally took a break from them to finish this for you!!!

     “Shit,” Dean breathed, pulling Cas away from the windows, even though he was already out of view. “Did they see you?” He demanded, glancing at the door anxiously.  
     “I don’t believe so,” the angel responded, but his eyes were wide in alarm. “I could see their true faces right away and I came back in here.”  
     “Okay, that’s good,” Dean assured him. “So,” he said, rubbing he face thoughtfully, “we just need to worry about getting out of here.  How’re your powers doing?”  
     Cas shook his head and raised a brow. “Better since I’ve been getting the proper nutrition and rest, but not great. The Nephil is still using a lot of my grace to create a vessel for him or herself.”  
     “So flying is a no.”  
     The angel shook his head once more. “I could maybe transport objects, but flying myself and/or others would drain me to a point that would endanger the baby and myself.  Other than that, there’s not much I can do.  I don’t even think I could heal either of us very well.”  
     “What about that ‘invisibelly’ trick?  You still able to do that?” Cas tilted his head questioningly and Dean rolled his eyes. “Can you hide your bump?” he clarified.  
     “It would have been too strenuous before Naomi captured me, but I believe I’ve gotten enough practice to manage. I am certainly more skilled at conserving my grace than previously.” He managed a small smile, just a quick upturn of the lips. “Do you have a plan?”  
     “Yeah I think so, though I’m not sure how good it is.  So, I’ll go out to get the car, and I’ll fight through them if I have to.  And no—I know you don’t like it, but tough stuff.  You’re staying out of as much danger as possible. When I get to the Impala, I’ll text you letting you know, and if you’re sure you’ve got the juice, you can send the stuff to the inside of the car.”  He rubbed his face and continued, “I’ll pull up right out front of the store, and as soon as I’m there, I want you to hide your belly and run until you’re inside.  You got that?  And don’t bother with the stuff unless you’re absolutely sure you have enough power.  I mean it.”

     Cas anxiously glanced to the side.  “Dean… there’s so much that could go wrong.”

     “I know, buddy; believe me, I know, but unless you got something better… Look, if I don’t text you after two minutes, I want you to fly out of here, as far as you can go without slimming your chances of—”  He swallowed the lump in his throat.  “Whatever you think is safest.  I know, it’s a risk, but if worst comes to worst…”

     “Why not just call Sam?” Cas hissed.  “Why not save ourselves the trouble and call him right _now_ ; why wait for you to be caught?”

     Dean closed his eyes.  “Because time is of the essence here.  Those black-eyed sons of bitches don’t know where we are right now, and we want to keep it that way.  As soon as they start getting impatient, they’ll start looking, and if they see me run out the door, they’ll know, and they’ll come for us.  For you.”

     Cas took in a deep breath, letting reality sink in.  He nodded dutifully.  “Okay.  I understand.”  His eyes were shiny, wet with unshed tears.  Dean looked despondently into his blue orbs before pulling him in for a kiss.  Cas whimpered in the back of his throat, and pulling away, choked, “I love you.”

     Dean didn’t respond for fear of crying.  He simply kissed Cas on the cheek and grunted, “It’ll be okay.”  For a moment more he stared into Cas’s eyes, hand subtly positioned to rest against his belly.  Then, very suddenly, he tore himself away while he still had the nerve, sprinting through the doors of the store without a second glance.

     Cas swallowed, listening closely to the outdoor world, but there was nothing.  No sounds of fighting, screaming, anything.  Cas was hopeful that it was indicative of the absence of a struggle.  Still, it was unnaturally silent.  It was dead silent, too silent… Cas’s heart jumped into his throat as a terrible thought crossed his mind.  What if there was no struggle because Dean never even got a chance to fight?  What if they had been waiting on either side of the door and they had strangled him the moment he set foot outside?  Pinned him to the wall?  Snapped his neck?  Was Dean currently bleeding on the pavement outside from a stab between the ribs, or a muffled gunshot to the head?  Or maybe they’d just taken him to kill him later.  They could have stepped on either side of him, grabbed his arms and vanished without a trace.  Maybe they were now coming into the store to kill Cas himself and his baby.  Should he run?  Hide?  Was this the time to drop everything, spread his wings and fly, hoping with all his might that it wouldn’t mean the death of his child?  Maybe he should—

     Cas jumped as vibrations tingled up his thigh.  He dug into his pocket and ripped his phone out, flipping it open so quickly that the screen could have separated from the keyboard.

     There was a text.  From Dean.  A cool relief washed over him as he read, **I’m here.  They didn’t even try to stop me.  Please tell me you’re okay.** Each sentence was a new message, sent in a quick succession.

 **I’m fine,** Cas hastily texted back.  **None of them have come in.**

 **Good.  Coming now,** was the response.

     Cas glanced around to make sure nobody was watching.  He then stepped close to their grocery cart and scrunched his eyes closed, tuning out everything around him except the sensation of being in the back of the Impala.  The worn leather smell was familiar in his brain along with the firmness of the seats, and the coolness of the glass, and the comforting presence of Dean behind the wheel.  Very slowly, he reached forwards and made contact with the cart, feeling a large rush of energy pour out of him.  He gasped, eyes snapping open, but sure enough, the cart was now empty, the back of the Impala full, and he felt no worse than a little bit winded.

     After a few more moments in which Cas regained a bit of his strength, he heard the familiar rumble of the engine and the crunching of tires on pavement.  He took a deep breath, concealing his belly, and made a dash for the passenger door.

     It was a strange, unpleasant sensation.  Despite not having the appearance of being so, his baby bump was still physically there, and he felt its heaviness slowing him down.  The combination of running and concealing his belly made him feel ever so slightly sick, and fear heightened his senses.  He was hyper aware of the demons around him, and still, he noticed although they were close, they made no move to capture him.  They stood utterly stationary, eyes black and jaws wide and fanged underneath their human faces, clawed hands at their sides and only vaguely threatening.  Still, he did not stop sprinting for the door until he had thrown it open and leapt inside.

     “Oh,” he breathed, belly flicking back into view after the door had shut.  “That was unpleasant,” he informed the hunter.

     Dean surprised him by throwing an arm in front of him.  “Don’t expose that until we’re away from them,” he snapped, eyes darting about dangerously as he swerved out of the parking lot.

    Cas threw back his head and groaned feebly, but he said no more than that as he obeyed Dean’s command and concealed the bump, attributing the harshness in the hunter’s tone to fear and fierce overprotectiveness.

     “You okay on juice?”

     “This is cutting it closer than I’d like, but I should be fine,” he growled through the pain.  He was just beginning to feel it, the mild discomfort slowly becoming a burning sensation as his grace ran low.

     “You shouldn’t have brought the stuff.”

     “I underestimated how long I would have to keep this up for.”

     Dean shook his head in frustration. “Are these still demons?” he demanded, gesturing towards a couple strolling along the side of the road.

     “Yes.  I’ll let you know as soon as we’re out of harm’s way.”  The burning intensified and Cas preferred to fight through it in silence, gritting his teeth in a poor attempt to bear the pain and pressing his hand against his stomach which was cool to the touch, but unbearably hot within.

     “Oh, God,” Cas whispered a moment later.

     “What’s wrong?” Dean asked sharply.  “Are you okay?”

     Cas gulped.  “The baby can feel it too.”

     “Feel what?”

      He shuddered out a few shallow breaths before explaining, “If an angel’s grace is healthy it is cold, but when an angel’s grace runs low, it burns hot.  The baby is currently experiencing this sensation and is moving around inside me in a poor attempt to escape the heat.”

     The car sped up.

     “What?!  Cas, if this is hurting either of you—”

     “It’s not.  At least, there will be no physical damage.  The baby is understandably uncomfortable; I’m experiencing some pain as a result of both events.”  _An understatement for both of us_ , he thought to himself as the child writhed and thrashed within his abdomen.  “But we’ll be okay.”  He fell silent once more for fear of being sick, running his hand over his belly and pleading the baby to be still, determined to keep his bump hidden for the safety of all of them, even if it meant unbearable pain.

     Dean threw worried glances at Cas’s pained expression for about half a minute more before the angel finally cried, “There!  Those are humans.”

     “We’re outside demon central?” Dean demanded, just to be sure.

     “Yes,” Cas insisted, wiping sweat and tears from his face.  “Can I stop now?” he pleaded.

     “Yeah.  Sorry, Cas.”

     “It’s not your fault,” he breathed, rubbing the bump that had popped back out.  He tried a smile, but it slipped off his weary features.  “We’re okay.  We made it out okay.”

     “Not that we expected to be ambushed on a shopping trip.  What the hell?” Dean asked, pulling into a parking lot.

     “Can we really consider it an ambush?  Why didn’t they attack us?”  He tilted his head back, reclining in his seat, and breathed deeply.

     “No, I have no clue, man.  I can’t believe they wouldn’t recognize us.”

     “There has to be more to it than that,” Cas mused, feeling the last bit of pain linger deep within his core as the baby’s movements calmed.  “It’s a little farfetched, but…”

     “But what?”

     “But maybe they weren’t there for us.  Think about it, Dean, they were occupying a large radius around the stores we were in and they made no move to follow us.  Why else would they have just stood there as if they were waiting unless we weren’t the ones they were waiting for?”

     Dean simply raised his eyebrows, having no argument against Castiel’s point.  “Okay, then the question is _what_ they were there for.  Any ideas?”

     “None, if not for us,” Cas huffed.  “You?”

     “I can only think that it has to be something to do with Crowley.  I think we should call Sam when we get back and rack his brain.”

     “What about Charlie?”

     Dean’s eyes lit up as he remembered.  “ _Right_.  You feeling up for it?”

     “Yes.  I don’t even want to think about demons,” Cas admitted.

     “Okay, Sammy later.  Here,” he said, tossing his phone to Cas, who fumbled the catch and nearly dropped it between the seats, “find her in my contacts and invite her over, okay?  Tell her it’s time for you two to finally meet and that we’ve got some important news.”

     Cas smiled.  “Okay,” he said, finding her name.

     “Hey…” Dean spoke, resting his hand on the gear shift but not yet shifting it out of park, “You really okay?”

     Cas considered Dean’s question carefully, blue eyes staring intently into Dean’s green ones.  He decided he was no longer in pain, and the child only stirred peacefully.  All that remained of his earlier suffering was a heaviness in his limbs that was more comforting than not due to its sheer normality.  “I could use some sleep,” the angel informed him finally, earning himself a pat on the shoulder and a calmingly familiar chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat.

*             *             *

     The resonating tune of the Bunker’s doorbell stirred Cas from his sleep.  He shifted on the couch, waking to a library dimly lit by the glow from surrounding rooms, and the smell of some sort of freshly baked treat that wafted in from the kitchen, which Dean eagerly dashed out from, ruffling Cas’s hair on the way to the door with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.  Cas weakly murmured his protest, making no effort to move from his current position, nestled nicely in the corner of the couch with his head propped up on the armrest, arm draped across his distended midsection, and legs tucked close to him, the bulge of his belly just barely touching the tops of his thighs.  He groaned as Dean flicked on the light.

    Forced into consciousness, he yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as a cheerful greeting played out in the foyer.  “I can’t wait to meet him!” a cheery voice exclaimed as two sets of footsteps approached.  Cas looked inquisitively towards the door, peering around the back of the couch to get a good view without moving.

     The friends walked in together, arms intertwined in a familiar yet platonic way that did not go unobserved or unappreciated by Cas.  The first thing he noticed was Dean’s face, oddly tranquil and anticipatory at the same time, but overall, content.

     He took in Charlie’s appearance.  She was slender and a good foot shorter with fiery red hair and a face that was unique and pretty at the same time.  It took a moment for her to spot him, and her jaw dropped when she did.

     He supposed he must be a curious sight, only his face visible, eyes still heavy from sleep, hair disheveled as a result of his slumber and Dean’s antics.  However, upon laying her eyes on him, Charlie blurted, “He’s gorgeous!” turning bright red as soon as she closed her mouth, almost as red as her hair.

     “Nah, he’s just lazy,” Dean countered, leaving Charlie’s side to hover over Cas.

     “ _He’s_ rude,” Cas retorted, causing the young woman to forget her embarrassment in awe of the angel’s gravelly voice.

     “Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean ordered.  “Time to get up.”  When Cas murmured noncommittally and gave no indication of obeying the command, Dean hauled him to his feet and out from where the couch obstructed Charlie’s view.

     “You’re different than I expected,” she observed as she saw all of him for the first time.  “In a good way,” she assured him, slightly flustered by her blatant approval.  “Sweeter looking.  Cuddly.”

     “A little bigger than you thought he’d be?” Dean hinted.  Cas resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

     A bit of color returned to her face, but she smoothly stated, “He’s taller than I thought.  You always described him as so much shorter than you.”  Cas gave Dean a sharp look at that information.

     “Just taller?” the hunter teased with a wicked grin, wrapping his arms around Cas’s prominent midsection.  Charlie flushed once more.

     “Stop it,” the angel chided, pushing him away.

     Dean sighed.  “You’re both no fun.  Stay right there, I want to show you some of the stuff we bought today before all the demons showed up.”  He retrieved a shopping bag from the table and began to rifle through it.

     “Ignore him.  He’s much too fond of theatrics,” Cas claimed, but he failed to hide an amused smile.  It was close to an apology, but not quite.

     Charlie was still caught up on Dean’s words, her previous mortification forgotten.  “Demons?” she repeated incredulously.  “Demons at the mall?”

     Cas smiled and raised his eyebrows as if to say, “It’s our life,” before sinking into the nearest chair.  Charlie blinked, still struggling to process the concept of it before finally sitting herself next to the angel.

    “Okay,” she breathed.  “Demons at the mall.  Normal stuff, right?”

     “Not really,” the blue-eyed man informed her.

     “Yeah,” Dean dismissed simultaneously, kneeling between the two and facing Charlie who was now baffled.  “Okay, so there’s actually a point to all of this; I’m not just trying to make you blush, even if it is hilarious.”  She scowled.  “We’re actually kinda experiencing an important change right now, so, uh, this is my way of telling you what.”  He paused for reassurance.  “So, um… want a hint?”

     She smiled warily, but genuinely intrigued.  “Sure.”

     “Okay,” he said, eyes lighting up.  “It’s kind of, well, _very_ weird,” he corrected, “and hard to believe, but it’s good.”  He grinned in anticipation and pulled a rattle out of the bag, shaking it with an expression akin to Christmas coming early.

     Charlie’s expression was the epitome of bewilderment.  “You’re… starting a mariachi band?”

     Cas looked on the verge of yanking the rattle out of Dean’s hands to hit him over the head with it.  “Your ‘hints’ could use some improvement,” he informed the hunter drily, gesturing for the bag.  Dean reluctantly held it open for him, dropping the rattle back in, and the angel gestured towards an object inside, which Dean reached for.  Charlie’s expression was still perplexed, but much softer as Dean pulled a tiny onesie from the bag.

     “Oh,” she murmured, understanding creeping onto her features.  “A baby.  You’re adopting a—”  Dean shook his head, unable to wipe the silly grin off his face as Cas took the onesie from him and gently draped it over his swollen belly in a clear, deliberate gesture.  He then looked up at her through his lashes and contentedly observed her expression which could only be described as shocked.

     “Oh,” she squeaked.  “You’re _not_ adopting a baby.”

     “Need a drink?” Dean suggested, beaming toothily.

     “A strong one please,” she stammered, unable to take her eyes off the pregnant angel.

     Cas handed the onesie off to her as Dean practically danced into the kitchen, pleased with the response.  He sunk back into the chair wordlessly with a satisfied smirk, hands folded smugly over the ever-growing swell of his belly.  Charlie’s face was clear of confusion, but astonishment still lingered in her features as she examined it.

     She giggled a moment later as she admired the design, rounded text reading, “Daddy’s little angel” on the front of the clothing, cartoony wings embellishing the back of the soft yellow material.  “How fitting,” she commented.  “I take it this was Dean’s choice?”

     “Yes,” he affirmed, pursing his lips a moment later.  “Dean has an interesting sense of humor.”

     “What did you choose?”

     He dug through the bag before shyly revealing the pink outfit with “princess” embellished across the front.  “This was my favorite,” he admitted.  “I’m not entirely sure why.”

     “You’re having a girl?”

     “We don’t know.  And although I would appreciate both genders, I have to admit I would like to have a girl so she could wear that.”

     “It’s cute.”

     “Dude, our daughter is not wearing pink,” Dean protested, carrying a full shot glass in one hand and a tray of bagels in the other.  He put the glass into Cas’s hand and gave the bagels to Charlie, not realizing the mistake until seeing Charlie’s horrified stare at the drink in Cas’s hand and Cas’s intense hungry stare at the food in Charlie’s.  “Uh… switch,” he commanded, taking them back and swapping them.

     “It’s _cute_ ,” the woman and the dark-haired man insisted at the same time, and when their eyes met, their mouths were already turned up in appreciative smiles, though Cas’s was soon hidden by a mouthful of bagel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist a good bagelpocalypse reference... Please review! If not for me, than for the sake of bagels.
> 
> Coming up soon: more Charlie, and the return of Sam and Kevin!


	17. Coincidences

     “So let me get this straight,” Sam said, refilling his and Charlie’s glasses.  “The demons saw you, but they _didn’t_ try to kill you?”  The younger hunter had joined the group at the kitchen table a few minutes earlier and was still struggling to comprehend the story he was told.

     “They were most definitely aware of us,” Cas informed him, reaching over Dean’s plate to take yet another bagel, “but they seemed largely disinterested.”

     “But that doesn’t make any sense!” Sam exclaimed, jamming the top back on the bottle with frustrated aggression.  “I mean, if there were as many as you said there were, they were there for a reason.”

     “So if they weren’t there to hurt or kill us, then why?  To figure out our shopping habits?  It just doesn’t add up,” Dean replied, swirling the liquid in his glass that he barely had touched.

      Sam sighed.  “There has to be something we’re overlooking.  This can’t just be a coincidence.”

     “Why not?” Charlie asked.  All three men gave her concerned looks, jaws gaping.  “What?” she questioned defensively.  “What’s so crazy about that?”

     “Have you even met us?” Dean asked.  “There are no coincidences.  There’s something going on here, and it’s big.  It’s bigger than Cas, and that’s saying something.”

     “Hey,” Cas protested in a hurt tone, drawing his brows together as he took a large bite of his bagel.  Dean winked in response, and the angel couldn’t help a smile from creeping onto his face.

     “Wait, Dean, she does have a point,” Sam admitted.

     “What?” the shorter hunter exclaimed before turning his attention to his redheaded friend once more.  “Listen, Charlie, no offense, but you’ve only seen a small part of our lives.  Crazy stuff like this happens a lot, and it _always_ has something to do with us.”  She pouted and snatched the full glass out of his hands, pouring the alcohol into her own without a protest from the hunter.

     “But maybe, just this once, it doesn’t,” Sam pointed out as Dean spun his empty glass on his pointer finger.  “Look, the world doesn’t revolve around us, even if we’ve gotten used to thinking that way.  Lately, we’ve been keeping our heads down and staying out of trouble, especially you two.  So maybe… it’s really just a coincidence.”  He shrugged.  “I mean, just think about it.  As far as we know, the demons didn’t follow you there, otherwise Cas would’ve seen them.  It’s possible they showed up in the area for something else entirely.”

     “Fine,” Dean huffed, “But if not us, then what?  It was pretty freaking weird how there were so many there.”

     “I agree with Dean,” Cas informed them.  “They seemed to be preoccupied with something else, but I couldn’t tell what.”

     “Yeah,” Charlie butted in, “don’t demons like to cause, like, mischief and mayhem and all of that kind of stuff?  I mean, what were they doing just standing there if not specifically for Kirk and Spock over here?”

     “What?” Cas demanded, confused by the reference.

     “Dude, I’m totally Kirk,” Dean informed him not very helpfully.  Charlie nodded with a muffled giggle.

     Sam pursed his lips, choosing to ignore the reference and the chaos that had emerged from it.  “I don’t know.  But you’re right; it’s worth looking into.”  He stood and retrieved his laptop from a nearby table, opening it and entering his password in a short series of keyboard clicks.  “I’ll take a look around, see if I can find anything out of the ordinary in the area.”  They fell into comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the tapping of Sam’s fingers on the keys and the occasional murmur as he scanned various web results.

     Meanwhile, the three non-pregnant people in the room had emptied the bottle of its golden liquid, although Sam and Charlie had done the most work on it, and Cas had finished his second bagel.  The angel leaned back in his chair and folded his hands contentedly on his rounded stomach.  A clock ticked softly in the background, lulling them all into a comfortable, sleepy state.

     “Let’s move this back into the library,” Dean suggested before he could fall asleep in the hard, straight-backed kitchen chair, earning him an ache in his neck and back.  “Sam, you coming?”

     “Nah, it’s quieter in here,” he explained, waving them off.  “I’ll come to you once I figure out what’s going on.”

     Dean pulled out Cas’s chair and helped him to his feet.  The three friends collapsed onto the library’s comfiest couch, Cas fitted snugly between Dean and Charlie.

     Charlie was a little less uncomfortable now that she was somewhat drunk.  “I still can’t believe you two are having a baby,” she informed the couple happily.  “I mean, you’re really big,” she said to Cas before turning to Dean and asking accusingly, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

     Dean sighed, a haunted look creeping onto his face.  “Because… when Cas was about four months along, that’s when he was kidnapped by Naomi.  It just… it wasn’t the right time to say anything.”

     “Oh.  Yeah.  Totally,” she breathed, taken aback.  “Sorry.”

     “It’s okay,” he said, features turning a bit brighter.  “We’re okay now.”  He smiled softly at Cas, smiling even more as the angel took his hand and pressed it against his swollen belly.

     “So that would mean you’re…”

     “Six months,” the angel finished for her.  “Almost.”

     An alarmed look crossed the woman’s face.  “Wait, wait, wait; hold up.  Doesn’t that mean you were pregnant in Purgatory?  Dean only got out like, what, five months ago?  And you got out a month later than he did!”  Cas nodded in agreement.  “Wow.  That must have been terrible.  And scary.”

     Cas shook his head at that.  “No, I wasn’t even aware at that point.  And really, I was lucky to be with child.”  Charlie raised a brow.  “The portal that Dean and I escaped through was meant for human travel only.  I shouldn’t have been able to make it through at all, but since the nephil is half-human, it was just enough to get me through to Earth, albeit the journey being a bit longer for me than Dean.”

     “So your… angelic nature held you to Purgatory, but the humanity inside the baby pulled you back to Earth?”  She sighed.  “That’s actually really romantic if you think about it.”  Cas smirked.

     Dean scoffed.  “Okay, girls, that’s enough.  Hey.”  A sudden thought struck him.  “We should get Kevin down here.  He’s still holed up in his room; it’d be nice for him to have at least a little human interaction.”

     “That’s the prophet, right?” Charlie asked.  “Yeah, I want to meet him too.”

     “Okay, hold on,” Dean said.  He pulled out his phone and texted, **Kevin.  Get your ass down here.**

     “Not exactly polite, but to the point,” Charlie conceded as the hunter hit “send.”

     “You have to be direct with Kevin.  Hey, at the very least, he can help Sam if he’s not interested in socializing.”

     Charlie frowned, biting back a response.

     “What?” Dean questioned defensively.

     “It’s just… from what I’ve heard, he’s had a tough life.  Maybe go a little easier on him?  He’s a person, not a tool for you to use.”

     Dean had the decency to look guilty.  “Yeah, you’re right.  It’s just that I’ve been trying to help him out and he just doesn’t want it.  I mean, I told him we’re not doing tablets any more, and I know that doesn’t solve all his problems, but – hey, here he is,” he informed them in a softer tone as the prophet clumped down the stairs with heavy feet.

     “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” he asked, ducking a tired head into the room.  He tilted his head upon spotting Charlie.  “Who’s this?”

     “My friend Charlie.  She’s just here for some catching up, but she’s trying to help us with our little demon problem too,” he explained as the two shook hands.

     “Demon problem?”

     “Yeah, there was some weird stuff going on at the mall today; Sam’s trying to figure it out.  Come join us,” he instructed as Charlie patted the space next to her.

     “Are you sure Sam doesn’t need help?” he asked, taking the spot nonetheless.

     “Nah,” Dean insisted.  “He’s a big boy.”

     “What happened?  I thought you guys just went out for baby stuff.”

      “Yeah, well, apparently the demons went out for baby stuff too.”  Kevin gave him a concerned look.  “Yeah, weird.  I know.  I mean they were all just kind of milling around.  Didn’t touch us,” he explained, hand wandering to Cas’s tummy.

     “Did they look at you?” the prophet demanded.

     “They glanced,” the angel informed him, “but no more than that.  And my bump was hidden, as was the state of my grace.”  He looked concerned.  “You don’t think they know, do you?”

     “No,” the prophet said quickly.  “I mean, they should have been able to tell from your grace, but you hid that.  So they don’t.”

     “Good,” Dean breathed, relieved.  “Can you imagine what Crowley would do if he—holy crap.”  He stopped short.

     “Dean?” Charlie queried.  Kevin gave him an uneasy glance.

     “Cas, did you feel that?” He pressed both hands to Castiel’s rounded abdomen.

     “Yes, of course, but–”  Shock crossed his features as his own hands joined Dean’s.  “Did you?”

     Dean swallowed, nodding slowly.  “I think that was a kick.”

     For a moment, nobody breathed, and then, very suddenly, Kevin and Charlie moved in.  In the blink of an eye, there were eight hands placed on Cas’s globe-like belly.  There was another flutter under the skin.  Dean’s heart thudded in his chest, Cas blinked intently, Charlie gasped, and even Kevin could not help his gaze from softening as he felt the subtle movements.

     “Sam,” Dean called, but it was a stutter, barely above the volume of a whisper.  “Sam!” he called again, this time shouting with a large grin.

     “What?” his towering brother exclaimed, rushing into the room with the demon knife held in front of him.  “Is everything okay?”

     “The baby kicked,” Dean rasped, and Sam slipped the knife back into his jacket as if in a trance, never removing his gaze from Cas’s belly.  There wasn’t much room left on Cas’s abdomen, despite its ever-expanding surface area, but soon enough there were ten hands piled on the rounded surface as the baby danced around in Cas’s womb.  Sam grinned with the rest of them as they felt it move again.

     “I think it likes us,” the taller hunter guessed.

     “Nephilim do tend to seek out companionship early on,” Cas agreed.

     “What does it feel like?” Dean murmured.

     “Wonderful,” was the first thought that came to Cas’s mind.  “I can’t explain it.  The closest thing I can think of is being brushed by my brothers’ and sisters’ wings.”

     The majority of the room’s occupants were able to hold in dreamy sighs, but just barely.  Kevin, however, could not, and he covered it a moment later with a cough.

     There was a beeping from the next room over.  “Damnit,” Sam cursed, reluctantly removing his hands, “that’s my laptop.  I’m gonna go check what it says.”  As he left the room, the magical mood was broken.  Charlie and Kevin pulled away, leaving only Dean to stroke Cas’s bulging midsection before delivering a quick kiss to the bellybutton and resuming his previous position at the end of the couch.

     “So get this,” Sam announced, coming back into the room with his computer.  “There are definitely signs of demon possession; I mean, we’ve got weird weather, people going missing, and strange inexplicable phenomena, but there’s been close to no action whatsoever.”

     “What do you mean by that?” Cas questioned with a tilt of the head.

     “I mean that there’s been very little violence, no freak accidents, not even animal slaughterings.  There are huge amounts of demons about thirty to forty minutes from here, but they’re really not doing much of anything.”  He shrugged apologetically, wishing he had a more helpful answer to offer.

     “So what’s our plan of action?” Dean demanded.

     “Honestly?  Nothing.  As long as nothing’s going on, they’re low priority.  Right now it’s more important for us to build up our resources and keep Cas safe while we wait for the baby to come.”

     “You can’t be serious,” the older hunter argued, focusing on a spider crawling across the ceiling to control his anger.  “They’ve got to be planning something.  We can’t just wait here like sitting ducks!”

     “Dean, we can’t just go and confront them,” Cas pointed out.  “I shouldn’t be fighting at this point and you and Sam aren’t enough to take them alone.”

     “So what do we do then?”

     “We wait,” Sam said.  “We’re not going to be completely defenseless, Dean.  I mean, the Bunker is demon-proof and now that we know something freaky is going on, we can keep track of it.  But until they actually start hurting people… I don’t really see any point in attacking while we’re down one.”

     Dean bit his lip and stayed silent.  He didn’t like Sam’s plan, but he honestly couldn’t think of any better ideas.


	18. "Three More Weeks"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a while! I was struggling with writer's block for a while before realizing the chapter I was writing was completely unnecessary and kind of boring. So I scrapped that and I decided to move onto some more plotty stuff which was much more enjoyable to write and read. Hope you enjoy!

2 months later

*             *             *

     “Can you believe it?” Dean asked, shaking his head in awe.

     “What?” asked Cas, stroking his belly.  Now that he was so large, his hands rarely moved from where they naturally tended to rest on the top of his bump.

     “That in only three weeks, that kid is coming out of you and we’re gonna be dads.  We didn’t even buy a stroller yet,” he bemoaned, flipping through another page of the catalogue he was holding.  “I’m not ready.”

     “I am more than ready,” Cas replied drily.  He eased himself into a chair with a slight wince, and Dean smiled sheepishly.  “My size is beginning to limit what I can do, I get cramps at random times of the day, and this child never stops moving,” he complained, smoothing his hands over the swell of his belly.  He had a point.  Two weeks prior, he had been forced to switch from button-downs and jeans to t-shirts and sweat pants as he could no longer squeeze into his preferred clothing.  “But did you really not find a stroller yet?”

     “I’m trying,” he defended, flipping yet another page, “but everything I like is ‘in store only’ and this whole page is twin strollers.”

     “Put that away for a while and take a productive break.”

     “‘A productive break?’ What the hell does that mean?”  He threw the catalogue aside nonetheless.

      “Use the time in a meaningful way.”

     “Like…?”

     “Let’s discuss names.  Or you could make me some food.”

     Dean threw his head back and laughed.  “Okay.  How about both?  Want some ice cream?  I think we still have some in the freezer.”

     “Chocolate…  It’s worrisome.”

     “Huh?”  Dean dug a carton out of the freezer.  “How is ice cream worrisome?”

    “No, my size.  I don’t believe I can physically get any bigger.”

    “Then you’re right; we should really talk about names soon, just in case you explode.”

     Cas’s eyes widened, and he put a hand to his globe-like midsection in alarm.  “That can happen?”  His gaze softened as Dean let out another peal of laughter.  “Oh.  It’s a joke.”

     “Focus,” Dean scolded teasingly, pointing at him with the spoon in his hand.  “Names.”

     “I was hoping you’d have some ideas,” Cas admitted.  Carefully, he suggested, “If it’s a girl, we could name her Mary.”

     Dean was silent as he handed the bowl of ice cream to the very pregnant angel.  After a breath he said, “I appreciate the thought, but let’s stay away from deceased relatives, okay?  It’s too damn depressing.”

     “Sorry,” Cas murmured.  “I have a very limited amount of suggestions when it comes to human names.”

     “Why does it have to be from my side of the family anyways?  Do you have any angel names?”

     “I always liked Pahaliah.  Jekuthiel.  Zophiel.”

     “ _Palaha—Halapa-aha—_ what?  Okay, uh, say the last one again.”

     “Zophiel.”

     “Okay, that could work.  ‘Zophiel.’  Zoe for short.”

     “It means ‘beauty of God.’”

     “Zoe Winchester.”  Both men smiled.  “It sounds right.  But what if we have a boy?” the hunter asked.

     “Dean.”

     “We’ve discussed this.  No.”

     “Fine,” the angel pouted.  “Shalmaneser.”

     “ _No_.  Cas, the angel stuff is great and really cool sounding, but I have to be able to pronounce my own kid’s name.  Is there anything remotely human?  Steve?  Kurt?  Nathan?”

     Cas looked pleasantly surprised.  “Nathaniel means ‘gift of God.’”

     “Huh.  That was easy.  You like that name?”

     Cas nodded.

     “Great.  Girl name and boy name.  I’m too beat to think of anything else right now.”  With that, he sprawled himself across the couch and folded his arms behind his head.

     “Shouldn’t we take more time to really consider all our options?”

     “Why?  You’re happy; I’m happy…  Let’s just keep it in the back of our minds and we can reconsider if we think of something better.”

     There was a slight pause before Cas said, “Sahaquiel.”

     “No, Cas,” Dean retorted, closing his eyes.  “We are not naming our child ‘Sasquatch.’”

     The angel glowered, but after a few seconds of silence, both men burst out laughing.  A moment later, Sam tore in to the room, causing Dean to laugh even louder, but he quieted a moment later, noticing the panicked look on Sam’s face.

     “Whoa.  Who died?” Dean asked.  Cas straightened up in his chair as much as he physically could.

     “A lot of people, actually,” Sam informed them sternly.  “Just an hour away from here.”

     “How?” Cas asked, making circles with his palm over the rounded surface of his stomach.

     “No idea.  They just drop dead with no trace of sickness in their bodies.  And it’s pretty close to where you guys saw all the demons.”

     “So what are we looking at?” Dean asked.  “Demon sickness?”

     “That’s what I thought, but this isn’t Croatoan.  They’re not violent and there are no symptoms of illness before it happens.”

     “Then it has to be something new,” Castiel reasoned.  “We should go.”

     “No,” the brothers said simultaneously.

     “Yes,” Cas insisted.  “This is big.  We need to be there.”

     “ _You’re_ big,” Dean retorted.  “So big you probably can’t even get out of that chair on your own.  You’re not coming.”

     It took him a good five tries, but Cas finally stood defiantly.  “Yes, I am.  Someone has to go, and Sam and Kevin can’t do this alone.”

     “I’m going with them,” Dean assured him.

     “Which is why I’m coming too,” Cas insisted quietly, yet firmly.

     “You’re not hunting, Cas!  Especially with demons around!” Dean shouted.

     “That’s not a good idea,” Sam cut in.

     “I don’t need to hunt, Dean.  But I need to be there.”

     “No, you don’t.  You need to be safe back here at the bunker so –”

     “Cas, please listen to Dean.  He’s trying to—”

     “I cannot be away from you right now, Dean, emotionally or physically!”  Cas thundered, stunning the hunters into silence.  He took a deep breath and timidly explained, “At this stage in the Nephil’s development, it’s important to be close to the father, you, as much as possible as the baby is still developing human traits and finalizing its vessel for itself.  When you’re far away, we feel pain and intense anxiety.  We… experienced it last week when you and Sam went out for groceries, and you were only a few miles away.  I’m sorry.”

     Sam scratched his head in frustration.  “Fine,” he huffed.  “But no hunting.  You stay out of the way and fully protected.”

     “Sam, no.  He can’t come,” Dean insisted.  “Sam, come on, he’s pregnant for God’s sake!  We have to find another way!”

     “What other way, Dean?  We need you there, and we need to leave now.  And honestly, Kevin mentioned this might be a possibility.  We even threw together a bag for the two of you.”

*             *             *

     One hour and seven arguments later, the four men pulled up to the front of an inconspicuous motel.  Sam jumped out of the car to get a room as Dean wrapped Cas in his old trench coat.  When the taller hunter came back, key in hand, he led the rest into the room.  Cas followed closely behind, flanked by Dean and Kevin in an effort to conceal his enormous belly from any potential observers.

     The entourage piled into the tiny room, an exhausted Cas immediately collapsing on the bed.

     Dean delivered a kiss to his forehead, lips, and belly.  “You okay?”

    “Fine,” Cas quipped, turning away.

     Dean furrowed his brow.  “I want you here.  I just worry.”

     The angel sighed.  “I know.  But I’m not completely helpless.  I can still look out for myself.”

     Kevin and Sam turned away, busying themselves with unpacking and sorting out their weapons.

     “Hey,” Dean whispered.  “I trust you.  But I don’t trust myself to keep you safe when there’s so much crap going on.  You get me?”

     Cas offered a small smile and squeezed the hunter’s hand.  “I know.  I’m flattered by your concern; I’m just frustrated by my current limitations.”

     “Do you feel okay?”

     The angel sighed.  “Not really.  Everything hurts and the baby keeps moving.”

     “Three more weeks,” Dean reminded him.  “Just three more weeks and you’ll feel great.”

     “I’ll feel terrible first.  From what I’ve heard, giving birth is not pleasant.”

     “Okay, how does that even work?  There’s nowhere for it to come out.”

     “I will develop the necessary anatomy to deliver naturally.  A birth canal,” he clarified when Dean made a strange face.

     The hunter’s brows raised.  “You mean, like, lady parts?  Weird.”

     “Not exactly, but it’s the same idea.  I could explain more thoroughly if—”

     “No,” Kevin said from behind them.  “Please, spare us the details.  Sam and I really don’t want to know.”  The taller man nodded his agreement.  At that moment, all the lights went out.

     “What the hell?” Dean remarked, noting the bright, cloudless sky.  “Uh, this cannot be good.”

     “What do we do?” Kevin asked.

     “Dean?” Cas’s voice wavered.

     “This can’t be a good sign.  I think we all need to leave and find a safer place.  Now,” Sam said, tossing a gun to Kevin.

      “Ow,” said the angel as he was hoisted to his feet.  “A little warning please,” he demanded, picking up his angel blade with one hand and massaging the underside of his sizable abdomen with the other.

      “Quicker,” Sam demanded, handing off various weaponry.  He finally claimed a shotgun and Ruby’s knife for himself.  “Okay, let’s get out of here before any trouble starts.”

*             *             *

      Within a minute, the team found themselves back in the Impala, Dean starting up the car as quickly as he could, glancing at Cas in the passenger seat who was worriedly rubbing his stomach, wings blinking in and out of existence.  “It’s okay, let’s just drive for a while.  Nothing can get us while we’re moving.”  As he finished his sentence, the car rolled to a stop and spluttered into silence.

     “What the _hell?_ ” he exclaimed for the second time in five minutes.  He checked his gas gauge to find his tank to be half-full.  “Okay.  Crap.  New plan.  We need to get back into the motel room and salt all the windows and doors as quickly as we can.  Cas stays in the middle of the pack in case anything jumps out at us, okay?”  He looked over at the angel who was breathing heavily.   “It’s gonna be okay, Cas.  I’m gonna get us out of here no matter what it takes.”

     “Dean—” Cas was cut off by his own yelp as a body slammed against his door.  It turned its face to him, revealing a snarling mouth and angry black eyes.  In seconds, Dean leaped out of the car and ran around the front.  Another demon leapt from the roof of the car and landed on his back, and he quickly finished it with Naomi’s old angel blade.  He slit the throat of Cas’s attacker while tearing the body of his own attacker off his back.  Without pause, he threw open Cas’s door and pulled the angel to his feet as Kevin and Sam rushed to either side.

     “Oh.” Cas hunched in Dean’s arms.

     “What’s wrong?  Are you hurt?”

     “No, I—Dean, look out!”

     Dean swerved to take down the demon behind him, but Kevin beat him to it.  Still, within moments, two had taken its place.  Then five more behind them.  Soon they were surrounded by at least twenty demons, all proudly showing off their black eyes as they advanced.  Kevin twitched nervously.  Sam gripped his blade tighter.  Dean stiffened.  Cas gasped for air.

     Then, miraculously, they stopped and turned to the left.  A few keenly sniffed the air; others stopped as if simply listening.  As a singular unit, they took a few uneven steps in that direction before falling into a steady march as if they shared a mind.

     “What the hell?”  This time it was Kevin who asked the question.

     “I’m gonna guess there is something important going on over there and we should probably follow them.  Just me and Kevin,” Sam clarified.  “Not you two.”

     “Go,” Dean agreed, and they sprinted off in that direction.

     “Let’s get inside,” Dean said, “before anything else happens.”

     “Okay, but—”

     “Wait,” Dean interrupted, holding out a hand.  “Do you hear that?  It sounds like a—AAH!”

     Something unseen had tore into the leg of his jeans, causing blood to well from the damaged skin and stain the blue denim.

     “Hellhounds?” Cas moaned weakly.

     “Sam!  Kevin!” Dean called, but he was out of the range of hearing.  He swiped his blade, not sure if he felt it connect with something solid or not, but he decided to count it as a kill as he was not attacked again.  “That was lucky.  Too lucky,” he noted as he came to that conclusion.  “If only we could see—Wait! I still have the glasses!” he explained, pulling Cas towards the trunk.

     “What?” Cas huffed, confused.  He shook his head , trying to refocus.  “Dean—”

     “Here,” Dean said, tossing Cas a pair of glasses that had been scorched by holy fire.  “Kevin figured out a way to let us see hellhounds when we were still focused on the tablets.”  The angel almost fumbled them before managing to position them on his nose with shaky hands.  “Son of a bitch,” the hunter swore as two hellhounds crawled towards them.  “What the hell is going on here?  Why are there hellhounds running around and attacking people who haven’t made deals?”  He glanced at Cas who was backed against the Impala.  “What are you doing, Cas? Get behind me!” Dean exclaimed, jumping in front of him before lunging at the nearest hellhound and skewering its eye.  The beast dropped at his feet.

     “Dean, I have something to tell you.”  The angel successfully beheaded one of the giant canines as he spoke, covering himself with a spray of blood.

     “Not a good time, Cas!” he hollered, as his blade was knocked out of his grip by another.  Moments later he was pinned to the ground.

     “I’ve been trying to tell you for five minutes now.  This is important,” the angel insisted through gritted teeth as he threw a punch at a dog that had latched onto his sleeve.

     “Gonna have to wait,” Dean wheezed, kicking at the one holding him down.

     “DEAN.”  The angel finished off his own attacker as Dean’s struggle worsened.

     “WHAT?”  Dean desperately reached for the blade that had fallen well out of his grasp.

     Suddenly, the angel was above him, looking terrifyingly powerful with his wings stretched into a magnificent arc behind him and blood splattered across his face which held a dangerous expression.  The angel raised his blade above his head and stared straight into Dean’s eyes as he straddled the shadowy beast.  “THE BABY IS COMING NOW,” he bellowed.

     And with that statement, he plunged his blade into the hellhound’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then.  
> I'm kind of in love with Cas, all anger and fury and danger as he announces he's in labor and then totally kicks ass. Gosh. What a BAMF.


	19. Blasphemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! New chapter! Sorry for taking so long; I've just been really picky figuring out exactly where I want the last few chapters to go. I hope you enjoy!

_The baby is coming now… the baby is coming now…_ Dean’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts that he could make no sense of.

     “W-what?” he stuttered as Cas hauled the dog’s corpse off of the hunter’s chest.  The angel wiped his bloody hands on his pants before putting his hand to his lower belly with a grimace.

     “The baby’s coming,” he said slowly.  “I am quite certain that I am in labor,” he clarified when Dean failed to snap out of his stupor.

     “Crap.  Cas,” he rasped, rising to his feet.  “You sure?”

     “I just said so, yes,” he snapped in reply.  His breath hitched a moment later and his other hand rose to his globular midsection. “Yes.”

     “Crap,” Dean repeated.  “Crap.”  He buried his head in his hands.  “Cas, it’s too soon.  It’s a month too soon.”

     “Three weeks,” the angel corrected, “but only by our estimate.  It makes sense.  I’m very large—” he was cut off by a distant howl.

     “Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed.  He flung the trunk open and threw a few items into a duffel bag: salt, goofer dust, iron, and another angel blade.  “C’mon let’s get inside,” he suggested, desperately wishing he had a better plan… or any clue how to deliver a baby.  “How long do you think you can last?”  They stumbled towards the motel room.

     “Not long,” Cas wheezed.  Dean wrapped his arm around him for support, but the angel found himself incapable of moving too quickly without feeling significant pain.  “I think I may have been in labor for three or four hours already.”

     “What?  Why would you not say anything to us?  Cas,” he groaned.  “Okay, I gotta call Sam; get him and Kevin back here.”

     “I didn’t know it was happening!” he cried defensively as Dean yanked his phone from his pocket and hit Sam’s number.  “I’ve been feeling strange for a few weeks now, and I didn’t know what to expect.  I had no clue what was happening until the pain got worse!”

     “No cell service,” he said, shaking his head and returning the phone to his pocket.  “Hey, I’m not mad at you, Cas, I’m just scared, okay?  I have no freaking clue what I’m doing, and neither do you really, and I can’t reach Sam and Kevin, so I’m just kind of freaking out.”  Cas looked alarmed at those words.  “It’s okay,” Dean amended quickly, “We’ll figure it out and you and the kid will be fine.  It’s just a lot to deal with at the moment.”

     “I know.  I know.  I’m sorry,” he panted.

     “Not your fault,” Dean said, locking them into the room and pushing the table against the door.  He was less than pleased with its sturdiness, but it would have to do.  “How are you holding up right now?  Can you do a salt line?”

     “I can manage,” the angel confirmed, and Dean handed him the salt and the bag of goofer dust saying, “Salt the entire perimeter, but put the goofer dust on the window and door first, okay?”

     “Goofer dust?”

     “It’s hoodoo.  Works like salt, but specifically for hellhounds.”

     They made themselves busy, Cas spreading the hellhound repellants around, and Dean barricading the window by pushing a tall dresser against it.  By the time they were finished, Cas was sweating.

     “Okay, come here,” Dean ordered, though he was the one to cross to Cas.  “Come on.”  Dean sat Cas onto the bed, and the angel groaned and clutched his stomach as he was moved.  Dean tried to ignore Cas’s pained expressions.  He pulled the trenchcoat from his shoulders and ran his fingers through his dark hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

     “Dean,” Cas moaned, and Dean kissed him gently, rubbing his swollen abdomen as he did so.

     “Just lay down and try to relax, okay?”

     “I don’t know what to do,” the angel admitted fearfully, tears forming in his eyes but refusing to fall.

     “Me either.  We’ll just go step by step, okay?  First thing I need to know is whether I need to… you know.”  He drew a line across the rotund surface of Cas’s stomach.

     “Cut me open?  No.  Like I said earlier, I… I have a passage now,” he admitted, cheeks tinted pink as he looked away.  “That’s how I knew for sure it was time.”

     “Okay!  That’s good, okay?  One less thing we need to worry about.  So what exactly do you not know how to do?”

     “What I should be doing right now.  I don’t – I’m not dilated enough; I’m not ready to push.  What am I supposed to be doing?”

     Dean put a hand to his cheek sympathetically.  “I think you just have to ride it out for now, buddy.  You have to wait.  Sorry.”

     Cas sighed, falling back onto his pillow with a groan.  “I was afraid you’d say that.  I just want it over with.”  As they sat without speaking, the silence was filled with his labored panting.

     Suddenly, there were scratching noises at the door.  Growls sounded through the air a second later.

     “How many do you think there are?” Cas asked, pulling the sheet over his body.  His enormously distended abdomen was a tented dome under the thin cover.

     “Three or so by the sound of it.  You keep your angel blade on hand, just in case they get in and I can’t take them all.  This too,” he instructed, placing a shotgun loaded with rock salt on the bed beside him.

     “Dean, it’s getting worse,” the angel gasped desperately.

     “I know.  I’m sorry, Cas, I—”

     The door rattled.

     Cas whimpered.

     It burst open.  The flimsy table was thrown aside, splintered and useless.  Four dogs growled menacingly outside the doorframe.

     Dean waited no time to blast all four full of rock salt.  He then lunged forward over the line and impaled the nearest one with his blade.  He jumped back over the line just in time as one rose to its feet and snapped its jaws at him.  He fired at it once again and stepped over the line to finish it off.  He successfully killed the beast, but largest of the two remaining latched onto his arm.  He yelped and stumbled backwards, accidentally ruining the salt line as he retreated into the room.  As he struggled with his attacker, Cas shot it from his vulnerable position on the bed and Dean was able to do some damage before the other leapt onto him.  The wounded hellhound remained on the floor, but the other tackled him and he was pinned to the ground in the same manner as before, though he had his weapons on him this time.  He held his gun to the dog’s head and fired rock salt into its brain, surprisingly a killing shot.

     “Well that’s a good trick to remember,” he commented before realizing that the injured beast had managed to crawl away and had retreated from the room.  He hastily repaired the line and slammed the door shut as another ran down the hall towards their room.

     “Dean, that door isn’t going to hold,” Cas observed, hoisting himself from the bed with an extreme grimace.  “We need to barricade it with the bed.”

     “Cas, no, you need it, and you can’t use it if we block the door with it.  It wouldn’t be safe—”

     “I will deliver on the floor if need be.”  The hunter frowned.  “Dean, quickly!  This is life or death.  I can assure you I’m not the first to give birth without a bed to lie on.”  The hunter obeyed, though he grumbled unhappily.  Cas leaned against the wall in the furthest corner of the room, eyes screwed shut.

     “Ohhh…” he slid to the floor, breathing heavily.

     “Cas?”

     “It’s getting really close.  I will need to push soon.”  Dean tried to ignore the rattling of the door as he made Cas as comfortable as possible.  He grabbed a pillow for under his head, although the angel decided to sit for the time being, and a sheet to cover him up for when it was time to deliver.

     “How long do you think?”

     “Ten, fifteen minutes at most.  My contractions are not far apart and I’m almost fully dilated.”  The angel did not seem reassured by his own words.

     “You okay?” Dean prodded gently.

     Cas’s brow furrowed and his eyes closed.  “No.  Not really.  I’m terrified.  What my body is doing is so… so foreign.  And I’m afraid that I will mess up, that I will do something to hurt the child.”

     “You won’t, Cas, I promise.”  Dean’s gaze met Cas’s terrified eyes, which flicked back and forth between Dean’s.  Grasping the angel’s hand, he said, “I love you, Cas.  You’re gonna be an awesome dad, dude.”

     “You—you too.”  The words were barely recognizable in Cas’s pain, but Dean understood the sentiment.  A moment later, the angel let out an unearthly screech and gripped Dean’s hand to the point of bruising it.  Dean elected not to complain, seeing the agony in Castiel’s features, but his own face creased a bit as Cas squeezed harder.

     “Shhh… I know it hurts, man, but you gotta stay quiet or you’ll attract more of them.”

     “Dean, I can’t!” he howled.  His cry rattled the door almost as much as the hellhounds did.  He let out another scream of pure agony, piercing and grating.  “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I can’t!  I can’t!  I can’t!”

     “Yes, you can; I know you can do this, Cas.  Okay, this’ll help you out,” Dean assured him while unbuckling and removing his own belt.  “Bite down on this,” he directed, offering him the strip of leather.  “I’d give you my hand and let you break it all you want, but I might have to fight for your life with it, so take your coat,” he said, tossing him the bundle, “and squeeze it really tightly when the pain is bad.”

     An anguished sound came from Cas’s throat, but he bit down as instructed, and the sound was muffled.

     “Good.  You can do this,” Dean reassured him, cupping his sweating face in his hands as the door rattled harder.  He couldn’t help but think it might be too little, too late, that the hellhounds had already picked up on Cas’s tormented shouts.  “You holding in there?”

     Tears streamed steadily down his cheeks, but he nodded bravely.

     Dean turned back towards the door in alarm as the bed rattled too, and leapt up to secure its position against the door.  Once he was satisfied that it would hold, he retrieved two water bottles from his bag and poured part of one over Cas’s head.  The angel sighed in relief at the coolness of the water.  A moment later, his contraction ended and he was able to drop the belt from his lips, letting out a groan.

     “Thirsty?”  Cas nodded desperately and Dean opened the other bottle and handed it to him.  As Cas drank, he poured the remainder of the first over his head.

     For a few peaceful minutes, Cas was able to cool off, relax, and rehydrate, and the door only rattled every now and then, seemingly holding back whatever was on the other side.  Soon enough though, another wave of contractions hit and the angel’s face screwed up in distress once more.

     “Oh, God,” the angel wailed, and Dean would have laughed at the blasphemy if Cas was not feeling pain wash over him again.  The hunter helped him position the belt between his teeth again, and not a moment too soon, for another muffled roar erupted from his throat a moment later.

     There was a sudden crash behind them as the bed was thrown against the wall and the door swung open once more.  Dean spun around as the mattress thudded onto the floor, bracing himself and preparing to take on more hellhounds, but he froze in his tracks once he saw what was at the door.

     “Hello, boys,” Crowley greeted darkly, flanked by the previously injured hellhound.  He eyed Cas’s massive belly greedily and crooned, “Or should I say, boys plus one.”

     A twisted smirk spread across his features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit.  
> Please review! We're close to the end now; I estimate about four chapters more, but I could be wrong. We'll see where it goes. I hope you liked the update :)


	20. Evil Son of a Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah  
> YEAHHHHHHHH

     “Crowley,” Cas snarled, and it was truly intimidating, even from his feeble position on the ground.

     “Cas. Or should I say, ‘Mom?’”

     Dean advanced towards the demon, angel blade in his hand and growled, “Why the hell are you here, you son of a bitch, and how did you know—?”

     “Know what? That dear old Cas was in a family way?”

     “Yes, actually, that would be a good place to start, if you’d be so kind!” Dean shouted, waving the blade.

     “The better question would be: ‘Who didn’t know?’  It’ll be a bit hard for you boneheads to grasp, but demons have this sixth sense, you could say.  You see, a Nephil’s power is so incredibly strong, especially when still connected to its ‘mother’, _especially_ when the ‘mother’ happens to be an angel.  It is so strong that it is like a beacon to us; angels and humans don’t pick up on it, of course, being tuned to the same frequencies, but demons can sense the anomaly right away, and we can juuuuuust pinpoint an estimated location, et cetera, et cetera.” Crowley leaned against the doorframe in a bored manner.  “Are we all caught up now, or do I have to bring this down to a first grade comprehension level?”

     “No, I get that,” Dean rasped.  “What I don’t get is how you knew it was Cas and how you found us!”

     “Well, that’s getting a bit personal; do you mind if I come in?  Oops, too bad, I don’t really care either way.” Crowley snapped his fingers and a huge crack emerged in the floor, breaking the salt line.  He stepped inside, but the hellhound remained outside. “Juliet, come!” he ordered, but the dog backed away from the door, whimpering.  “Now look what you’ve done; you’ve scared my dog,” he complained. Nevertheless, he flipped the bed right side up and took a seat.  “This mattress isn’t half bad.  Could be better though.”

     “How did you know it was Cas, Crowley?” Dean had allowed the demon to step into the room without attacking him, but he stood defensively in front of Cas, angel blade in his hand, and another in his jacket’s inner pocket.

     “Oh, that was easy; I just sent some of my lower-levels out to the area I knew the Nephil was in, and they found you just like that.  It was honestly so simple, I mean, you were at Babies-R-Us for Satan’s sake; it wasn’t exactly subtle!” he gloated.  “They recognized you at once, reported back to me, yada yada…  I would’ve preferred to just take Cas right then and there, but without you close to him, the child would’ve never survived.”

     “That was the day—” Cas started, referring to their unfortunate trip to the mall, but his statement was cut off by his own wail as he clutched his rounded midsection and rocked back and forth.

     Crowley clicked his tongue.  “I’ve got to say, Castiel, I do not envy you right now.”

     “Hey!” Dean shouted.  “You leave him alone! Now how about you tell us why the hell you’re here, and don’t give me any of that ‘miracle of childbirth’ crap, okay?”

     Crowley regarded him coldly.  “I don’t have to do squat for you, Winchester, but it just so happens that I’m inclined to tell you for my own satisfaction… I’m here for the Nephil.”

     There was a stiff silence.  Cas broke it a moment later as he spat, “You fucking son of a bitch!”

     Dean was still confused, though enraged.  “You’re here for our kid?” he bellowed.  “Why hell would you even do that?  Just for the sake of being sadistic?”

     “Like I said before, Nephilim have lots of power.  It just so happens I’m into that kind of thing.”

     “So you want to take our kid?  Our _infant child_ and what?  Raise it?”  Dean’s face was twisted in fury.

     “More or less. ‘Train’ might be a better word.”

     “Freakin’—!” Dean was so enraged that he could not form a complete sentence.

     “Quite.”

     “I’m—You’re dead. You want to use my kid as a weapon? I am going to freaking kill you, Crowley, I swear—!”

     “Maybe later, darling, you see, your boyfriend’s having an unnaturally speedy labor, being an angel and all.  While we’ve been chatting away, he’s been pushing for at least five minutes now, and I do believe the baby’s crowning.”

     “Cas?” Dean whipped his head to look at the angel.

     Cas was almost as white as the sheet that covered him.  “Yes,” he croaked.  “Yes, I’m—son of a—” He let out another shriek.

     “Well? Run along Winchester!”

     Dean was torn between wanting to be at Cas’s side and wanting to protect him at any cost. “No way, Crowley. The second I turn my back, you’re gonna make a move!”

     The demon king tutted.  “And what? Steal the little abomination from right between his legs?  No, thank you. I hate getting my hands dirty.” He wiggled his fingers arrogantly.

     Dean shook his head indignantly, and raised his blade, but a sobbing howl from Cas pulled him away from Crowley to his angel lover’s side.

     “It’s okay, Cas, you can do it.  And I’m not gonna let that evil son of a bitch take our kid away, okay?  I swear on my life.”  Dean massaged his ballooning tummy, at a loss for what else to do.

     “I know, I just—I—” he let out another anguished shriek.

     “I know, I know,” Dean murmured and kissed the angel’s cheek.  “I’m gonna take a look, okay?”

     The angel nodded tearfully, and Dean made sure he was properly covered with the sheet before removing his clothing.  He took a peek underneath and paled significantly.

     “Yeah, you’re umm... you’re almost there.  I can see the… I can see it.”

     “So… aren’t you curious about the all the demons?  Or maybe how I found you?” Crowley asked casually.

     “Shut up!” Cas screeched.

     “Yeah, not really interested in hearing you brag right now,” Dean shot at him. “We’re kind of busy, if you didn’t notice.”

     “Well the truth is, it was all just a diversion to get you in this town, and then separate you from Moose and the prophet.”

     “I don’t really care,” Dean said.  “Hey, Cas, look at me, you’re doing fine, okay?”  Cas looked less than fine, however.  He was very pale, sweating hard, and gasping for air.  He looked on the verge of passing out.  “Just hang in there, you’re almost done!”

     “Dean, I can’t!”

     “You’re almost there.  I’m gonna catch it, okay? You just gotta keep pushing.”

     “Turning the demons into what were essentially zombies was a neat little trick, actually. It was just a matter of—”

     “Shut up!” Dean and Cas yelled in unison.

     “ _Ahem_.”  Crowley cleared his throat.  “As I was saying, it was just a matter of digging into the subconscious, sort of like angel radio, but what I did was…”

     Crowley kept on speaking, but neither Cas nor Dean was listening. Cas’s hands were plunged into the fabric of his trench coat, fabric balled tightly in his fists, and blood dripping down his chin as he bit his lip, belt fallen and forgotten behind him. Dean was concentrating carefully on supporting the head of his child as it slowly emerged.

     “Okay, Cas,” Dean encouraged.  “One more big push. Just one more.”

     Cas shrieked, a high, grating sound.  Finally, the baby was pushed fully out into Dean’s welcoming arms.

     “You did it, Cas. You did it,” Dean breathed. The baby let out a few gentle cries.

     “Is it okay?” he demanded anxiously.

     “Yeah, he’s really small but—oh.  That’s weird.”

     “What?”

     “There’s a belly button, but no cord.”

     “Of course,” Cas gasped, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled his sweaty shirt from his body as he spoke.  “Unborn nephilim don’t have placentas, but their vessels are made to be as similar to human as possible.  Is he really okay, though?”

     “Yes, Cas,” Dean laughed.  “We have a healthy baby boy.”

     “Um, hello? Still here,” Crowley reminded them. “I think what you meant to say was _I_ have a healthy baby boy.”

     “No!” Cas shouted, voice rough, but strong.  “Not in a millions years, Crowley!”

     “Oh please, like you’re going to stop me in the condition you’re in,” the demon scoffed. “Come on, give him to his master. There’s no point in fighting.”

     “Cas, take the baby,” Dean instructed dangerously as the angel gently scooped the tiny boy into his arms and lay him on his chest.

     “Really? You’re going to challenge me? Come on, I’ve given you and the heavenly host a chance to live!  Are you really gonna throw that all away for a tiny scrap you barely just met?”

     Dean’s eyes glinted dangerously.  “I would do _anything_ for my family. Anything.”

     Crowley examined him closely for a moment, then shrugged.  “Oh well, I guess we’re doing this the hard way then.” With a wave of his hand, he sent Dean flying across the room.  The hunter slammed into the furthest wall and winced as he was pinned down by Crowley’s powers.

     “Cas!” he cried, tears pouring from his eyes.  Dean fought harder against his invisible bonds, but try as he might, he could not break them.  “Cas, you can’t let Crowley take him!  Get out! Run!” he pleaded, even though he knew deep in his heart that Cas had no chance, especially in his weakened state. The angel’s wings even sat limply on his back, like dead weight.

     But as Crowley approached, smug smirk back on his face, Cas seemed to come back to life. He rose to his feet, sheet held on his body by some invisible force as he cradled his son strongly in his arms. It took a moment for Dean to realize that Cas’s eyes were alight with grace, and somehow, the newborn child’s were as well.  The sheet hung low on his hips, draped underneath the still-immense swell of his midsection, and his wings were raised and shining, two shades brighter than they normally were.

     “I will never let you have him.  He is the very best part of me.  He and Dean are the sole two reasons that I live,” Cas said in a voice that was not Cas’s. In fact, it seemed to be a choir of voices, all singing in unison.  But listening carefully as Cas spoke again, Dean could just make out the angel’s gravelly tone.  “His soul is pure and good. Even if you could touch him, he would never join you.”

     “Believe what you want, angel,” the demon spat, not impressed by the display, “but the truth is, you’re not going to be able to stop me, no matter how much you ‘love him’ or whatever.”

     “Perhaps I cannot stop you,” Cas warned as the demon king approached.  “But he can.”

     Crowley laughed and stood still for a moment.

     “Nice try,” he crooned, and lunged forwards.

     “No!” Dean cried as the demon touched his hands to their son.

     But Crowley was frozen in shock as light began to emanate from his hands. “What the—?  What did you do?  Let me go!” he hollered as the light spread across the surface of his skin.

     “You cannot touch him,” Cas repeated calmly.  He cradled the infant in one arm, and his blade flew into his open hand. Crowley was now engulfed in the shining grace, no longer even visible. 

     “What did you do? Let go!  Just let me go!  Castiel!” the demon called out a moment before Cas plunged his blade into the light with an unearthly screech, earsplitting and discordant and inexplicably musical all at the same time.

     The light exploded, and blue sparks rained down from the ceiling as Dean fell off the wall, gasping for air.

     “You cannot touch him, for his soul is pure and brilliant.  He will burn you alive.”  As he spoke, the light shining from him faded, and his voice returned to normal. The baby’s eyes were also back to their previous blue state, and the infant seemed altogether unfazed by the fact that he and his father had just killed the King of Hell.

     Cas, on the other hand, looked drained.  He slumped against the wall, wings dead once more, and fell to the ground.

     “Cas! Cas, you okay?” Dean ran towards him and helped him into a more comfortable position.  The baby grasped the angel’s collarbone with miniature fingers.

     “That… was unpleasant,” the angel informed him drily, traces of a smirk on his pallid face.

     Dean laughed, relieved. “I’m sure it was, but you guys kicked major ass.”

     “He is—a special child with extraordinary powers,” Cas marveled breathlessly.

     “That’s right. I think it’s time he got a name, don’t you?”

     “Yes, that—would be—preferable.”  The angel’s breath was hitched.

     “Well, we have Nathaniel as an option.  I think that’s perfect, but if you want to look for something different, then go for it. Just, not Sasquatch, okay?”

     “Dean—”

     “No! Not that either,” Dean scolded. “Come on, Cas, we’ve already talked about this five times and I—”

     “ _Dean_ ,” the angel exclaimed frantically.

     Dean finally noticed that Cas’s blue eyes were wide and panicked.

     “Cas?”

     “Dean, something’s wrong.  Really wrong,” he panted. “Take Nathan.  P-please.”

     “Cas, what’s the matter?” He scooped the baby from Cas’s arms, which instantly flew to his distended stomach.

     “It hurts. Really badly.  I don’t—I have no idea what’s happening.”

     “Hey, stay calm, it’s okay.  Umm… maybe it’s that thing… the p… the… pancake?  The pl—”

     “No placenta, no umbilical cord, remember?” the angel gasped.

     A sudden thought hit Dean.  “Cas,” he suggested slowly, “humans sometimes take a while to lose the weight they gained when they were pregnant, but are you still supposed to be that big?”

     Cas frowned, clutching his gravid belly in his hands.  “No, especially as an angel, I should be back to my normal physique.” He looked up at Dean in alarm. “You don’t think…?”

     “I do. What about you?”

     “It—it feels the same as it did before.”

     “And?”

     Castiel doubled over as a contraction hit him.  “Twins?” he moaned.

     Dean whistled in shock and smiled at the baby in his arms.  “Wow. Hey, Nathan,” he asked, “You ready to be a brother?”

     Cas went as pale as a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twins! Is anyone really surprised? I tried to throw in some subtle hints throughout the story... not sure how subtle they truly were though ;)
> 
> Anyways, I'm really excited to bring the last few chapters to you. Stick with me for just a few more!
> 
> Please review and tell me what you liked/didn't like. I want the rest of the story to be at its full potential! :)


	21. We're All Coming Out of This Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! I've been terrible busy this past school year, and I really want to make sure I do these last few chapters right. I think I'm doing just one more after this one, so the story will be complete very soon!
> 
> I'm so sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy.

     “Hey, Sam,” Dean spoke into the phone as he stroked Cas’s hair reassuringly, “you guys gotta get back to motel.  Cas is—”

     “Dean?” Sam’s voice was breathless and a bit muffled.  “Dean, this is so weird, all of the demons that we were following just smoked out. Like, out of nowhere. I mean, it’s weird, we were fighting them, but—”

     “—Yeah, I know.”

     “You know? How?  What’s happening over there?  Are you guys safe?”

      “Listen, Sam, it’s a long story, but you and Kev need to get back here now; Cas is giving birth.”

     There was a second of shocked silence.  “Oh, crap,” Sam murmured.  “Okay we’ll be there as soon as we can.

     “Make it quick.  I can’t do this alone and…” he dropped his voice slightly to say, “Sam, he isn’t doing too well. I don’t know how to—just come quick, okay?”

     “Yeah, we’re literally running to you right now.  Hang in there, okay?  We’ll see you soon.”

     Cas weakly grabbed onto Dean’s arm, nearly missing as his eyes were closed. “What’s going on?”

     “Sam and Kevin are on their way.  They’ll be here really soon.”

     “But the demons—”

     “Are all gone.  When you killed Crowley, all the demons smoked out and the hellhounds scattered.  The King’s dead and they have no orders.” Dean smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring.  “You did it, Cas; you killed the King of Hell and brought the whole order down.”

     Cas was pale and shivering and gleaming with sweat, but he managed a smile. “Not me.  It was Nathaniel.  Dean, he has incredible powers.”

    “I’m sure he does. He is a Winchester, after all.” However, the baby looked anything but powerful as he curled gently in Dean’s arms.  Perfect, but certainly not the mass weapon of destruction that Crowley made him out to be.  “How the hell did he do it?”

     “Nephilim recognize their parents before they are even born, and they are very in tune with the emotions of others.  I suspect he knew that Crowley meant to harm us, and he fought back. I think his sister may have helped, as well,” he panted.

    “Sister?  Cas, you said… are we having a girl?”

     Cas gave an exhausted sigh and his eyelashes fluttered.  “Yes, I believe so.  The sex of the child is more distinguishable now that Nathan is born.”

     “Incredible. Hey, we’ll get to see her soon, right?”

     Cas turned his head sadly to the side, closed eyes screwing themselves even tighter as another wave of pain washed over him.  “Dean—”

     “Cas. You will see her. You’re going to be okay, Cas. You can do it.” Cas merely winced and curled in on himself.  “Cas! You will get through this. You have to.”

     “Dean,” came an out-of-breath call, but it was not from Cas.  The hunter spun around to see Sam and Kevin in the doorway.

     All four eyes went immediately to the baby.  “Dean,” said Sam, “Is that…?”  Relief washed over both Sam’s and Kevin’s faces.  “You did it.  You’re all okay.”

     “No, Sam. I—” Cas’s voice was cut off by a tortured whine.

     “What’s wrong with him?” Kevin demanded.  “He should be fine by now.”

     “This,” explained Dean, handing the baby off to Sam, “is Nathaniel. But he has a _sister_ on the way.”

     Sam simply stared blankly at his brother for a moment.  “You mean—?”

     “Twins,” Dean exclaimed with a lopsided grin.  “Dude, I’ve got super sperm.”

     Another anguished scream from Cas brought him back into the moment. “Okay, babe, I’ve got you.” Dean slid an arm under the angel’s head and another under his knees.  “I’m gonna move you to the bed, okay?  One… two… three!”  Dean struggled a little under the angel’s weight, but he managed to smoothly transition him to the bed.

     “Oh,” Cas cried as he made contact with the mattress, grabbing hold of his swollen belly and curling in on himself once more.

     “Hey… it’s gonna be okay.  Sam and Kevin are gonna take good care of Nathan, and I’m gonna take good care of you.”

     “Dean,” the angel cried weakly.  “I’m not going to—”

     “Don’t you even say it, Cas,” Dean warned.  “You are _going to make it._ ”

     “Dean!” he insisted, panting all the while.  “Listen to me!  Denying it isn’t going to change anything, it’s only going to leave you ill-prepared. I am going to die. It’s a fact and you can’t change that by blocking me out.”

     “Cas, no. I can’t do it without you.”

     “Yes, you can,” the angel insisted.  “You won’t be alone.  You have your friends, Kevin and Charlie.  You have your brother, Sam.  And you will have our children, Nathaniel and Zophiel.”

     “Cas, please, there has to be a way to—”

     “Heal yourself,” Kevin said simply.  “Once your daughter is born, you can use your grace to heal yourself without risking her. You’ll be weak for a while, but you’ll live. That’s always how it’s done when angels bear Nephilim.”

     “Angels are equipped to carry one Nephil to term, not two. I—I don’t have enough grace to heal myself after delivering both.”  He gasped his last few words, back arching off the bed as agony rippled through his body.

     “Cas,” said Sam.  He was full of emotion, but at a loss for words.

     “I know it hurts, but you gotta think of something.  I know you can do this, Cas; you just need a plan,” Dean pleaded.

     “I don’t have a lot of time left.  Pushing her out will cost me too much.  The second she’s born…”  The angel trailed off, this time not in pain, but in thought.

     “What?”

     “To restore myself as an angel would be impossible.  There’s not enough grace left to heal me without losing the minimum I need to keep myself alive as an angel.  But if I divert all of my grace to healing myself and turning myself human… I could do it.  It will be difficult, but it’s possible.”

     “So… so you’d be mortal?” Dean asked.  “You’d grow old with me.”

     “Yes… but I’d have to time it carefully.  If I start the process too soon, I could transform before Zophiel is born and I won’t be able to deliver her.  If I start it too late, I’ll run out of grace before I finish.”

     Dean sucked in a deep breath.  “That sounds risky. Don’t the kids have grace too? Can they give you some to help you out?”

     “I can’t take that chance.  They’ve already used so much to defeat Crowley.”  Cas turned to the other two men in the room.  “I know this is a lot to ask, but I may need Dean for… emotional support, I’m afraid.  I need one of you to hold Nathaniel while the other delivers Zophiel.  P-please.  I know it’s not a pleasant task, but—”

     “I’ll do it,” Kevin volunteered.  “I know a lot about Nephilim.  I can do it.” Sam looked relieved.

     “Thank you,” the angel gasped.  “Dean, c-come up here by me.  K-kevin, I think she’s coming. I nee-eed to push.”

     “I told you, you can do this, and I meant it,” Dean said, looking intently into his partner’s eyes.  “Stay strong for me, buddy. We’re all coming out of this alive.”

     “Kevin, I need you to keep me updated,” Cas moaned.

     “The head is about halfway out.  I need a big push.”

     “I’m going to start healing myself.  I need to know as soon as she’s fully out so I can finish the process.”

     Dean cupped Cas’s face in his hands, offering his silent support as the angel’s eyes squeezed shut.

     “Almost there.  Get ready,” warned Kevin.

     “I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered.

     “I know. I love you, too, Cas. You can do it.”

     “Go!” exclaimed Kevin.

      Zophiel came to life, face scrunching as she began to cry.

     Cas went limp. His face relaxed, and his hands slid off his no longer protruding abdomen.  He was still.

     Much too still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Cas dead? What will happen to the Winchester family? You'll find out in the final chapter!


	22. Nothing Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm an asshole. There's no excuse. It started with writer's block, and then a busy schedule, and then becoming disillusioned with the new seasons of Supernatural, and then dissatisfied with my own writing... Again, there's no excuse and I feel really bad about essentially abandoning this story, especially on the worst cliffhanger in history. Anyways, I've been enjoying the current season a lot, and the more I've been enjoying it, the more the guilt has been nagging at me. So, I'm here to finally do right by you guys and finish this the way I was supposed to.
> 
> RECAP (since it's been so long): Cas, Dean, Sam, and Kevin went on a mission to investigate strange demon activity (though Cas is supposed to be resting). After being attacked by a strange horde of zombie-like demons, the group separates so Sam and Kevin can pursue the demons. Cas and Dean are then attacked by hellhounds, and Cas announces that he has gone into labor as they fight for their lives. They run back into the motel, only to be attacked by more hellhounds and then by Crowley himself, who wants to kidnap their child for its power. Cas gives birth to Nathan, and Crowley tries to take him, only to be disintegrated by the Nephil's power. Cas then realizes he is having twins. Sam and Kevin return to assist with the birth of Zophiel, but Cas doesn't have enough grace to heal himself as an angel. He is attempting to use all of it to heal, leaving himself human, but it is a risky process. At the end of the chapter, Cas gives birth to Zophiel, but seemingly dies, not having enough grace. We now wait to see whether Cas has survived the birth of his children, or if Dean will have to carry on without him...
> 
> Without further ado, here is the final chapter of Cat and Mouse.

    “Cas?” Dean whispered. It was a choked, desperate sound. “Come on, Cas, don’t do this to me. Not now.”

    Cas’s body lay lifeless on the bed. His eyes were closed, his lips parted.

    It was a strange phenomenon for Dean, to be stuck between two emotional moments of equal importance. Behind him, his newborn children cried softly, beautiful beings that Dean wanted to hold and smile at. And in front of him, Cas. Not moving. Not breathing. The death of his partner and the birth of his children. And him, Dean, trapped in the middle.

    “Dean,” Sam said, rocking Nathaniel gently. “I’m so sorr—”

    “Don’t say it, Sam.” Dean snapped, turning only for a moment to glare daggers at his brother. “He’s going to be okay. He has to be. He has— Oh, God.” Dean let out a choked sob. He touched a gentle hand to Cas’s face, still warm from the life that had drained out of him. “Cas, please. Please.”

    “Dean,” Sam said again, placing a hand on his back.

    “Cas,” Dean moaned, pulling away from Sam’s touch and pressing his face to Cas’s chest. “You can’t do this to me now. We’ll find a way to bring you back, you son of a bitch. You are _not_ allowed to leave me. C’mon. C’mon!” Dean slapped his hands on the sides of Cas’s face, trying to wake him up. Trying to pull him out of death. Cas’s head lolled to the side, and bile rose in Dean’s throat. He gently moved Cas’s head back to its natural position, trying to imagine that he was just sleeping.

    “I’m not sure that’s what Cas would want, Dean,” Sam sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, Nathan still squirming in his arms.

    “You don’t think he would want to be here with us? With me, and Nathan, and Zoe? Hell, Sam, he didn’t even get to _meet_ her. He’d want to meet his own freakin’ daughter.”

    “I know, I know. That’s not what I meant. Of course he’d want to be here, but not like this, man. Not because of some stupid deal. You know that.”

    Dean’s heart sank, knowing deep down that Sam was right, but refusing to acknowledge it, refusing to acknowledge the reality that Cas was gone. He turned back to Cas, gently shaking him by the shoulders. “Cas. Wake up, buddy. Please.” Cas was still. Dead.

    “Sam’s right,” said Kevin. “He’d want you to be here for your kids. They need you.” Cas gave no indication of agreement or disagreement. Dead. Cas was dead.

    “Yeah, but they need him too!” Dean cried. “ _I_ need him. You hear that, Cas? We need you. I need you. I can’t do this alone, man. I just can’t.” Tears streamed freely down his face. Cas’s stayed the same. Expressionless. Dead. “Please. Come back.” Dead. Dead. The dull ache in his throat became unbearable pressure, and he let out a series of agonized sobs. Dead. “You’re the best part of me, Cas. I’m nothing without you.” 

    The room was silent for a minute, save for Dean’s crying and the occasional cooing of Zophiel or Nathaniel. Dean lay on Cas’s body, striking his chest with blows that became weaker and weaker as the last bits of hope drained out of him.

 

    And then, Cas breathed.

 

    His eyes popped open and his body convulsed as he drew in a deep, ragged gasp. Alive.

    As that first breath shuddered into Cas’s lungs, Dean felt like he was breathing again for the first time, too.

    Poor Cas sat up, looking utterly wrecked. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red. His face was coated in a layer of cold, grimy sweat. His hair was mussed in every possible way, and his now loose shirt hung haphazardly off his frame, the soft maroon jersey stained with sweat, tears, dirt, and blood.

    It was the most beautiful thing Dean had seen in his life.

   “Cas?” he whispered incredulously.   The angel’s wild blue eyes met his own. “Thank God.” He pulled Cas into firm embrace. Their chests heaved together with desperate breaths. Cas was warm, real, alive. Dean let out a trembling breath, and Sam and Kevin also let out expressions of relief, Sam’s marked with shaky, disbelieving laughter.

   “Dean,” Cas said simply. 

   “It worked? You’re healed?”

   “And fully human. Yes.”

   “Cas,” he moaned, pressing his lips into the curve of Cas’s cheek. “I thought I said to never scare me like that again. Why did it take so long? I mean, you stopped breathing, Cas,” he blabbered. “We thought you were dead and we had no idea — what happened?”

   “My entire biology had to be rewritten. I’m assuming that could take a couple of minutes to —”

   “You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter, man,” he said, a tired grin sliding onto his face. “I’m just glad to have you back.” He pressed his lips onto the side of Cas’s face again before cupping the sides of his jaw and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “You have no idea.”

   Cas sighed, hours of stress and pain escaping through his parted lips. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” he murmured into Dean’s mouth.

   Dean drew him into another hug. “It’s okay. You’re here now.” He laughed. “We’re gonna be okay. We’re okay.”

   Cas hummed. “We’re okay.”

   One of the babies started to cry. “Hey, hey,” said Kevin, trying to calm her. It was Zophiel. 

   As Dean drew away, Cas’s eyes went wide as saucers, locked on the beautiful baby girl that belonged to them. “Is that—?” Tears brimmed on the edge of his lids, eyes shiny with emotion.

   “Yeah, that’s your daughter. Zophiel. If you still like that name,” Dean replied.

   “Yes,” Cas breathed. “It’s perfect. She’s perfect.” He looked over to Nathan and back to Zoe before settling his eyes on Dean. “Can I hold them? Please?”

   “Of course, Cas,” Sam said warmly, stepping forward with Nathan. Once the infant was settled into the crook of Cas’s arm, Kevin came to the opposite side of the bed and placed Zoe into Cas’s other arm.

   “They’re beautiful,” said Dean, positively glowing as he watched Cas take in the moment.

   “Our children.” A single tear spilled over the edge and slid down the side of Cas’s face. He laughed, and two more followed the first. Dean ruffled his hair affectionately and draped an arm over his shoulder.

   “Congrats, guys. You’re going to make great parents,” Sam said sincerely, laying a hand on each of them. He let out a small laugh. “And I’m going to make a great uncle.”

    Dean laughed in response and clapped him on the shoulder.

   “Yeah, congrats to both of you,” said Kevin. “And Cas? Good job giving birth in battle. That’s seriously bad-ass.” Cas let out a mumble of appreciation, but his eyes were locked on his newborn children. 

   “Yeah, what exactly happened?” Sam asked, glancing around. “It looks like a tornado tore through here, and — Crap, Dean you’re hurt.”

    Dean lifted his pant leg, revealing two long stripes of mostly-dried blood. “I’ll be okay. Just a little scratch.”

    “From what?” Sam asked before noticing the goofer dust on the windowsill and the discarded glasses on the floor. “Did hellhounds attack you guys? Oh my God.”

    “Yeah, and not just hounds. Crowley, too.  The whole thing was a trap so he could get his hands on our kids,” Dean replied. He felt Cas tense up under the weight of his arm. “Uh, but that’s a story for another day. I don’t wanna talk about that crap right now.” He squeezed Cas’s shoulder reassuringly, and Cas relaxed into his touch. “It’s a really long story and I’m still on edge.”

    “Understandable,” Sam said. “Hey, Cas,” he continued, a bit softer, “how are you feeling now anyways? You’re sure you’re healed?”

    “Yes,” Cas responded in his usual grating tone. “I am sore and exhausted, but I’ll be okay.” He looked down at the squirming babies in his arms. “These two were worth it.” Dean felt like he was going to melt. 

     “Zophiel and —” Kevin started.

     Sam finished for him. “Nathan, right?”

     “Yes, Zophiel and Nathaniel Winchester,” said Cas, smile playing at his lips.

     “Zoe and Nathan for short,” explained Dean with a grin that couldn’t seem to relax.

     “Zoe and Nathan Winchester,” Sam said. “They’ll fit right in.”

     Both Cas and Dean looked down again at their tiny infants’ faces with matching smiles of adoration.

     “Yeah, they will,” Dean said softly. He pressed a kiss to Cas’s temple.

 

     “C’mon, let’s take them home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this happy ending was worth the wait. If you've been waiting for these past two years, thanks for sticking around, and I am truly, sincerely sorry for just dropping you like that with no warning. If you're a new reader confused about why I'm probably gonna be given hell in the comments by my original readers, don't worry. I fully deserve it.
> 
> Again, I can't begin to apologize enough, but I hope this last chapter was what you were waiting for, and that this story brought you more joy than it did frustration. Happy hunting!


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